


A Tale of Two Gods

by CathyBear



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, M/M, Slow Burn, well...sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 83,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26574418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CathyBear/pseuds/CathyBear
Summary: Ever since he was a child, Alexandre de Sardet was always chasing after Constantin, looking after him. As the cousins travel to the island of Teer Freedee, new responsibilities join old ones and push down on de Sardet. Despite his best efforts, this new world teaches him that he is definitely not in control. Then again, maybe he doesn’t want to be.This is a story about de Sardet and Constantin with a bad ending that may not actually be all that bad.
Relationships: Constantin d'Orsay/De Sardet
Comments: 14
Kudos: 24





	1. The Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I had walked away from this story for a time and removed it because I hated to let readers down and was struggling with mild depression given the current state of the world. But as time passes, we get stronger and I'd like to present this again and bring it to its conclusion. I still have a long way to go to bring the story where I want it to go, but I'm looking forward to the adventure. Enjoy!

Two little boys play under a willow tree. They dash to and fro through its green curtains in a game of tag. They were as different as could be, the two boys. One, with dirty, light brown hair and silver, light blue eyes and laughter like a bird’s song. The other with dark hair matching a dark mark upon his cheek. Not quite as vocal, but vibrant green eyes lighting up at the game. 

The willow tree moves gently in the wind. Leaves swirling around them in a dance far more intricate than any learned in the king’s court. And so too they danced. The laughing boy moved quickly and with confidence, but what he gained in speed, he lacked in patience. His hiding places were easily found as he gave them away with laughter. The marked boy, on the other hand, danced with purpose, his body intentionally slow, but his eyes constantly waltzing from one part of the willow canopy to the next. His ears open and waiting for the inevitable laughter that would give away his target. A small giggle to the left and he lunges through the nearest curtain of leaves. Fingers grasp out and just barely miss the shoulder of the laughing boy who dodges right and sprints past him. Laughter following him as they chase each other around the willow’s trunk. Sometimes the marked boy would catch him. But they never switched places in their game of tag. Other children would complain, but the marked boy didn’t mind always being “it” if it brought a smile to the laughing boys face. It was his job and he took it seriously. And so the dance continued.

The laughing boy darts behind a thick curtain of willow and the marked boy once again gives chase. He throws the curtain open.

Gone.

The marked boy looks around in his confusion. Not only is the laughing boy gone, but so too is the soft glow of the sun, the chirping of birds, the gentle cooling of the wind, the tiny thrumings of life. In its place is heat, scalding the marked boy, making him cry out. He knows he cannot go back. The laughing boy shouldn’t be left here alone. This is no place for him. 

The mark on his face begins to tingle and his heart starts to beat faster and faster, roaring loudly in his ears. Is that really his heart? A sudden roar answers his question. The boy moves into a mad sprint into the unknown. He dashes around tight curves and stumbles on rocks. Walls of stone unfathomably high tighten around him. After a while, when he feels like he has been running forever and exhaustion starts to creep in, he comes to a stop. Coughing and panting, he puts his hand on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. The surrounding stone is silent save for the sounds of his own breath. After a few beats, he looks up and sees an unending path in the stone. He makes to move forward again, but then he feels it, the mark on his face tingling. Suddenly he can’t breath. His feet are frozen. Hairs stand on end and he cannot help it. He looks back.

The willow. The same willow he left hours before, just as close as it was when he left it. But no longer do the leaves sway gently in the wind. Instead, they whip forward, wrapping around the foot of the boy, dragging him backwards.

With a scream the boy grabs blindly at stone, but it is too smooth and weathered for him to get any purchase. He is dragged forward, more and more tendrils of the willow grasping forward for his other leg, then his arms. He continues to yell until willow leaves wrap themselves around his mouth. He is going to die here, he thinks. He thinks of the laughing boy and tries to reimagine the laugh in his mind. But some things cannot be captured by the imagination. The willow pulls him under.  
…

The marked boy can see a glow of light through clenched eyes. Is he dead? He carefully opens one eye and then the other. With a glance around, the willow is gone. The air is still hot and the stone still surrounds him. But he is now in a wide chamber. Looking forward, a giant tree lies in the middle of the chamber. It’s trunk is unlike anything the boy had ever seen. In addition to its size it is lined with faces that seem to move under the eerie glow of the light from above, faces both terrifying and beautiful. As his eyes look upward to find the source of the light, he notices the slight movements on its branches. Resting there are hundreds of song birds. But they sit in silence, looking below. The marked boy follows their gaze and gasps. The laughing boy! He is here! The laughing boy turns his blonde head and upon noticing him, gives the marked boy a comforting smile. The marked boy rushes forward and pulls him into a hug. A voice in the back of his mind telling him “One should not hug princes.” But he isn’t a prince is he? He is the laughing boy. And he is safe! They slowly let each other go and the marked boy has to clear his throat before he asks,

“What is this place?” 

The laughing boy stares at him for a beat and then smiles. But something is off and the smile seems just a bit too big. 

“We could be gods here you know?”

“...I...I don’t understand?”

“Gods. The two of us. Greater than monarchs. Free.”

The birds start to call out all at once. But it isn’t beautiful. It doesn’t sound like him. It’s loud. Grotesque. 

“Why would you want to be a god of this?”

“You wouldn’t make for a good god.”

“Wait, what? Why not?”

“Gods are taller. Stand taller”

“What do you mean?”

“Could you stand a little taller, just a tad?” 

Alexandre jolts awake with a start. His body is stiff as he straightens his back and rolls his shoulder blades upward and back in a satisfying stretch. Had he fallen asleep in a chair? Confused, he looks around the room. He is in the study of Mr. de Courcillon. The warmth of the room seeps into his bones and pushes out the lingering pit that he feels in his stomach. What was he even dreaming about before? He can feel the remnants of dread, but they fade as the familiarity of the room returns.

“Could you stand a little taller?” 

...Or not. The dread returns. 

Alexandre lets out a sigh as he turns toward the painter. That’s right. His mother had commissioned a painting before his trip to Teer Fredee. He had been sitting there for the better part of four hours. He must have dozed off at some point. How long had he been out for? Better question. How did the painter not notice that he had fallen asleep? Even better question. What would Mr. de Courcillon say if he found out Alexandre de Sarget, future Legate of the Congregation, had fallen asleep on the “famous” Sir de Cortone?

“Like this?” He asks. 

“Yes, yes.” Sir de Cortone replies. “The chin is a tiny bit lower. Gaze a little more to the right...” Sir de Cortone indicates how far to move his eyes with the brush. “There! Now hold the pose!”

 _Well this is natural._ Alexandre thinks. 

“Just a few more minutes...You have such an incredibly singular face…”

_The hell does that…_

“That’s a compliment, my lord, out of my mouth!” de Cortone nervously chuckles, realizing his words. 

_Nice save._

“Your...particularity gives you character!”

_Sweet San Matheus, I don’t think I can sit through much more of this. How much longer will this possibly…_

The door flies open and Mr. de Courcillon marches in. Upon glancing from the painter to Alexandre and back, “You’re still here?” de Courcillon says, scrunching his brows in frustration.

“We’re nearly finished.” Alexandre says, sending a hopeful glance toward the painter. _Oh dear Enlightened one, he did NOT just shake his head no did he?_ Alexandre gets up and walks toward his childhood teacher. “Have you any more need of me, master?” He asks. Save me, I beg you.

“You haven’t forgotten that we are setting sail today, have you?”

“Of course not!” You really think I wanted to be stuck in that chair?!

De Courcillon rolls his eyes, but beckons him forward. Alexandre follows.

“Your cousin is nowhere to be found... I’ve searched the palace from cellars to attics; your uncle is beside himself…”

 _Oh Constantin, of all days, really?_ Alexandre thinks. It’s unfair really. His fair-headed cousin is probably at the bar still, if the past is any indication. He’s at the bar, probably with some tavern wench sitting in his lap, while Alexandre is forced to sit pretty hours on end for a painter. Alexandre sighs.

“He was of a mind to paint the town last night, don’t worry. I shall track him down. Make care to your own preparations without wrinkling another frown. We’ll meet you on the boat!” Despite his frustration, Alexandre didn’t want Constantin to get in trouble. Plus, upon further retrospection, he couldn’t blame Constantin for wanting to get one last bender in. A lot of weight was about to reign down on his cousin’s shoulders. On both of their shoulders. The gnawing feeling in his stomach returns. 

_Mother..._

“It’s about time your cousin took account of the responsibilities awaiting him…” de Courcillon makes to leave and then turns back again with a side thought, “He should go and inform the ambassadors of Theleme and the Bridge Alliance of his departure!”

_I doubt he’ll be in any condition to. With a glance back at the painter, an idea hit him. Constantin you may have ruined de Courcillon’s day, but you just saved mine!_

“Have no fear, master, I will go and see them in his name.” Alexandre promises, a little too eagerly. He himself is nervous for the journey. And sitting in a chair for the better part of a day isn’t helping. It’ll do good to get out and keep his mind busy. Constantin may have just bought him an early ticket out of here. 

Mr de Courcillon eyes him for a moment. Alexandre knows what he is thinking. For how long will he be willing to pick up Constantin’s messes? He gives Alexandre a curt nod and makes his leave. 

Alexandre makes to follow, eager to get to work, and then remembers the impatient painter in the study behind him. 

“I beg your pardon but urgent matters call me away...Might we finish this later? Alexandre does his best to sound sorrowful. 

“Impossible, my lord, you are leaving with the tide if what I’ve been told is correct.”

“I am sorry, sir, truly...I must be going…” 

“My lord! Please, I beg you!” The painter cries and walks forward just to have Alexandre slam the door in his face. 

He closes the door behind him and holds it closed (just in case). He hears the painter’s high pitched voice yet still through the wall, but he pays it no mind. 

He lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, cousin, for getting me out of that!”

As he turned towards the hallway Alexandre had mixed feelings. Annoyance that his cousin could not be found on what may be the most important day of their lives. Amusement that, of course, his cousin could not be found on what may be the most important day of their lives. Excitement to see this new world that Mr de Courcillon had told them stories about since they were children. Fear of what and who he was leaving behind. Thoughts ebbed through him like the waves of the sea they were about to embark on. 

He needed to get to work, to do anything to distract him from the anxiety that started to build when he dwelled too much on his thoughts. 

_I wonder how Constantin’s feeling right now? If he’s sober he’s probably too excited to have a worry in the world._

Constatine was like that. He was so full of joy and seemed to never dwell on his worries. Alexandre wishes it were that easy. He felt like he was always worried. And the fact that Constantin never seemed to worry made him worry even more for the both of them. After all, somebody had to make sure Constatine didn’t get himself killed. The world would miss him too much. There wasn’t enough laughter in it of late.


	2. A Busy Day

The last thing he remembers are green eyes before he gets knocked out. As Constantin comes to, he is lying on the floor of a darkened room. He knows it’s not his own. It lacks that ornate wallpaper from Theleme that mother kept raving about until his father finally caved and allowed it to be bought and placed in every room. 

“Fuck!”

_Language, what will father think?_

Everything hurts. With a glance down at himself, he sees that his shirt is slightly torn in several places and covered in dirt. He gently touches his ribs and gasps slightly as the pain, but it isn’t overcoming. Nothing appears to be broken. He has several bruises. But those heal easily enough. _I’ve been in far worse fights_ , he thinks. 

_Green eyes…? Green, green…?_ Aha! There had been a lovely girl sitting on his lap with dark hair and green eyes. They had been having the most interesting conversation about nothing at all when the brutes had come over. 

Then there was a fight. What was it about again?

As almost all parts of his body start to ache in turn, it slowly starts to come back to him, as if each bruise is gently nudging his memory for the damage his personal choices made. 

He pieces it together and he remembers. The sons of bitches had come over, drunk, guns ablazing and running their mouths about his father’s leadership. Complaining about the malichor and how nothing was being done. About how the Congregation was a bunch of pussies for allowing Theleme and the Bridge Alliance to walk freely across their borders despite being at war with themselves.   
“All you royals do is sit on yer hind ends.” A particularly ugly one with foulest of breath had said. “And ya have tha nerve to come here? Getting drunk and fucking our women as we do honest work fer what? Fer taxes from a king with no spine?”

Constantin remembers charging the man. Running him backwards into a table. The table broke under the weight of the two men as they fell to the ground. The fall caused Constantin to lose his bearings and two men took advantage of his disorientation and grabbed him from behind, dragging him up to his feet. He headbutted them and wrestled away, turning to introduce someone’s face to his fist. His vision turned red after that. He remembers throwing more punches and getting as many in return. One of their punches must have been particularly good, because he can’t remember anything else. He thinks he may have woken up once already. Something about a ransom? Did he simply dream that?

With a glance around the room, he spots a bottle on the table. _They left me wine?_ How kind. Constantin thinks as he pushes himself off the floor and limps towards the table. Maybe his captors are not that bad? Constantin takes a swig and instantly spits it out. What fresh piss is this? Not even the Coin Tavern could manage pig swiss this horrible. _Now I’m really being tortured,_ Constantin thinks. 

He looks around the room and spots a window. It’s open, but has wooden bars too tight to fit through. He moves toward it, already knowing it is wishful thinking. He pulls on it and is right. Of course, it’s locked. The window lets in just enough light to see around the room.  
…

Light?

_Shit_

Constantin realizes. It’s the next day. He’s supposed to be on a bloody ship by now! What is his father going to say? He likely already knows. And if he knows, he is definitely furious. Poor Sir de Courcillon surely has gotten an earful by now of yelling that will soon be passed on to him. And Alexandre. Constantin’s gut sinks. He hated disappointing him the most. Make no mistake, he hated disappointing his father, but let’s face it, when DIDN’T he disappoint his father? His dear cousin on the other hand always looked to him with expectation in his eyes. As if he was waiting for one day when Constantin would do better, as if he actually believed Constantin was capable of doing better. 

_Shit,_ he thinks again, looking around the room with more care to see if he can find a way out. Besides the bottle of piss on the table, there is nothing in the room that could be used to break out. 

_Well, I guess there is no choice._ Constantin goes towards the door. Maybe if he can get these idiots angry enough, they will open the door and he has a fighting chance. He could even use the bottle. He starts to yell. 

“If you had any idea who I am! Open up imbeciles! I have a ship to catch!”

No response.

Constantin grits his teeth in frustration. “I am the new governor of Teer Fradee. I can get you money if you wish...but you must...let...me...out!” He bangs both of his fists on the door.

Still nothing.

He backs away panting in anger and frustration, hands now stinging along with the rest of his aches. Alexandre wouldn’t leave without him would he?

He panics for a moment, but forces himself to take deep breaths before it can develop into a full panic attack. He hasn’t had one of those in ages. It wouldn’t help him now. It would only blind him from any options available to him and getting out of this mess. As he focuses on breathing, he hears it. The gentle clicking of the door lock. Constantin grins. _Bingo._ Let the show begin.

“Well, this has been monumentous gentlemen, but I have more important things to attend to...” Constantin doesn’t even look towards the door. He walks toward the table, to grab the bottle of wine. He tips his head to the side as if in thought and continues his monologue “An island to govern...treaties to sign” he raises the bottle as if toasting the captors “..riches to expedite and a demanding father…” He turns his head slightly towards the door, getting ready for the fight. Upon its opening, he winds the bottle back for the throw and finishes a bit more aggressively, “a demanding father...TO..IMPRESS!” He launches the bottle with his last words.

He hits the man straight on, but the stranger’s reaction time is impressive as he puts up his arms to block the bottle. It explodes on impact, but otherwise does no damage. That’s ok, it was more for the element of surprise anyways. Constantin rushes forward, pinning the man against the wall. One arm grips his shoulder while the other pins the man’s chest tightly between him and the wall. Kurt would be proud of the pin if he would have seen it. 

“Constantin! It’s me!”

Constantin’s vision goes from red to clear as he hears the familiar voice. He takes in the face inches from his own. Alexandre! He should have known. His breath was too clean to belong to one of those brutes.

“My dear cousin!” Constantin sighs. Relief flows through him. Alexandre laughs at the look of glee on his face and barely makes it off the wall when Constantin pulls him into a hug. “Ah, my lucky star! Always there to pull me out of my fights.”

“I do what I can! We are departing soon. Your father wasn’t pleased by your absence this morning.” Alexandre chuckles and says this as they depart the room together. 

Upon hearing it, Constantin withers. His suspicions were correct. What a low note to leave Serene on. His father’s last thought of him would be of failure. He looks toward the ground in guilt and lets his thoughts come out.

“Have you ever seen him happy about anything when it comes to me. You know what he thinks of me!”

Before he can get in another word, Alexandre cuts in, “He cares about you. I know that. He appointed you Governor didn’t he?”

“He is ridding himself of a course of constant disappointment.” 

Alexandre frowns at him, his eyes furrowed in thought. He then looks back up and when Constantin sees pity, he feels worse. _I shouldn’t have said anything._ Constantin thinks. He exhales loudly and forces a smile. 

“Enough said! Today, we set sail for adventure!” He cuts past Alexandre for the door, pushing it forcibly open. He takes in a deep breath of fresh air and turns his head upward, closing his eyes and letting the soft rays of the sun hit his face. Enjoying the moment. 

He feels Alexandre move next to him and eyes upon him. After a couple more inhales, he opens his eyes and turns to Alexandre. Alexandre is smiling at him with a soft raise of an eyebrow and a tilt to his head. Constantin smiles back. No matter what trouble he gets into, he can always count on making his cousin smile.

“You owe me 25 gold coins by the way.”

Alexandre’s smile widens as Constantin frowns and sputters in indignation.

__________________________________________________________

“Kind of dicks, aren’t they?”

“Kurt!” Alexandre chides with a sharp whisper, quickly looking around to make sure no one heard the captain curse the Ambassadors of the Bridge Alliance and Theleme. 

“Careful, Kurt.” teases Constantin. He moves to cover Alexandre’s ears. “You’ll send my dear cousin into a shock with such language! We can’t do without our diplomat. What would we do then? Convince Theleme and the Bridge Alliance to put aside their differences in a full blown orgy where we...strike that, maybe that would work.”

Alexandre pushes Constantin’s hands away. “And you’re no better! I can handle your language Kurt. We’re not children anymore!”

Kurt chuckles. “Right that. You’re hardly kids any longer. Always a Green Blood though.” Looking back at Constantin, Kurt nods toward Alexandre, “Green Blood kicked my ass just this morning.”

“Well, I would have paid anything to see that! Tell me more!” exclaims Constantin.

“Green Blood had my men on defense the whole time. Although there was that one moment I got a good kick in and he fell on his royal rump. He’s a nimble one, your cousin.”

“Well, we always knew that was true. If only he used it when it mattered! Think of the possibilities, cousin!” Constantin waggles his eyebrows back and forth and gives a suggestive look. Alexandre frowns in disapproval, but Constantin doesn’t miss the slight blush that appears on his cheeks. He could never help but tease Alexandre about women, or lack thereof. Women seemed to be the only specialty that Constantin had that Alexandre hadn’t trumped him in. He worked far too hard and was far too polite. 

“So you talked to two ambassadors already this morning. Anything else I should know about?” Constantin asks. 

“Oh, no your highness. The chat with the ambassadors was only the tip of the mountain. Right after, he led a bunch of heretics to the promised land.” says Kurt with a chuckle.

“They were historians!” Alexandre protests. “And it was only two. And I’d hardly call Al Saad the promised land.” 

After a look from Constantin, Alexandre continues, “They only wanted to publish a book. I mean sure, they were claiming that in the writings of Saint Lucius, Saint Matheus heard a voice coming from the earth that told him to stay on Teer Fradee…”

Constantin coughs to prevent himself from laughing. “Of course *ahem* a voice from the earth. Do go on.” He raises his hand in front of his mouth to hide his splitting grin. Alexandre gives him a glare. Missing the glare, Kurt goes on. 

“Then there was the mob! They’d be at our necks if you hadn’t given them those potions!”

“A mob?”

Alexandre lets out a sigh. He frowns and looks to the side. He never seemed comfortable with people gushing over him. And Kurt was definitely enjoying it way too much. 

“It was payment. If I didn’t give them potions, they would have stormed the inn and dragged the poor man out. It wasn’t us they wanted, it was the man who had promised them an all healing potion.”

“Is that true, Alexandre?!”

“Yes, you know I learned how to make healing potions when I was 11!”

“No, not that! The potion! Could it really heal anything?”

“Well...no.”

“Then why protect the man?”

Kurt chimes in, “In his defense, the Bridge Alliance had done far worse. Why poison sick prisoners to find a remedy when you can poison perfectly healthy people?” He gives Alexandre a pointed look. Constantin can tell he doesn’t approve of how events played out.

“He knew enough about potions that they weren’t harmful. You know I agree with you in that I didn’t approve of his methods! But breaking research ethics out of a want to find a potion that creates resistance to the Malichor doesn’t warrant being ripped to shreds by an angry mob! It was stupid yes, but he said himself all the ingredients were harmless. He’ll never bother Serene again.”

“Sounds like you’ve had a busy day, cousin. Makes me want to take a nap just hearing about it, but, alas, I think we may have a ship to catch. We must ask you to work a little more before the day is up it seems.”

Constantin turns towards the main road that leads to the docks. Behind him he hears Kurt mutter, “We didn’t even tell him about breaking into the Naut warehouse or the missing cabin boy or the...oof!” Kurt lets out a grunt mid-sentence as if something had hit him in the gut to knock the wind out of him. If he had to guess, Kurt got a mean elbow to the chest. Constantin himself had been on the receiving end of Alexandre’s elbow jabs many times himself. Constantin grins and continues walking. He’s sure he will hear more later, but they have a boat to catch. 

It’s unsurprising to him that Alexandre managed so much before it was even mid-day. Ever since they were children, Alexandre never seemed to stop working. It was a source of pride that only Constantin could get him to stop what he was doing and play. To this day, he loved doing that. Being the one that could get Alexandre to softly grin at a well placed joke. Distracting him with conversation here and there. But it was harder and harder it seemed to get him to take breaks. Constantin rarely could get Alexandre to go to the tavern with him these days. He supposes he could understand. Alexandre had even more on his shoulders these days as he trained to become a diplomat. Constantin himself was constantly berated by his father about his new duties as a governor. But even governors took breaks! Constantin was well aware of the parties and their royal attendants that were whispered of on both the continents and Teer Fradee. Surely the same could be said for diplomats without the world setting itself on fire? Maybe he was just lonely. After all, Constantin’s life could be divided into two groups of people. The ones that faked their love and walked on glass around him because he was a prince. And the ones that looked at him as if everything he does, has done, or was ever going to do was a failure. Alexandre was the only one that didn’t fall in those two groups. He definitely nagged Constantin about his work ethic...or lack of it...but he never was ashamed of him, neither was he ever afraid to tell him how things really were. In a way, his opinion was the only one Constantin cared about. Constantin thought to himself. When they get to New Serene, he would do better, be better. He would work as hard as Alexandre to make their city great. Make it a place the two of them could look on in their old age with pride.

But where he internally vowed to take on some of Alexandre’s work ethics, he too vowed to get the man to lighten up. Perhaps when they arrived at Teer Fradee, Constantin could get Alexandre to take a short break before visiting the governors of San Matheus and Hikmet. Maybe convince him to check in often enough for walks around their new city? He would listen to his cousin ramble about all of his accomplishments and then once they got that out of the way, they could talk about the little things. Get a drink at the tavern (does New Serene have a tavern yet? Dear San Matheus, I hope so!) Help Alexandre take the edge off. Perhaps Constantin could even set him up on a couple of blind correspondences with some local women? Goodness knows his cousin was gorgeous enough to already have a wife. If only he actually took the time to court! His green eyes would draw them in and his kindness would seal the killing blow. He was so hardworking, they wouldn’t want for anything. Maybe he should count it a blessing that Alexandre was too busy for courtship. There would be no one in the whole of Serene left for the rest of them. In hindsight, there were no women that came to mind that would fit Alexandre anyways. Nowhere near good enough. Maybe in New Serene there would be.   
________________________________________________

The trio approaches the dock when he sees it, the Sea Horse. The ship that is going to take them across the pond to Teer Fradee. It is beautiful. 

Alexandre and Kurt lead him to a man on the docks with intricate tattoos around his eyes and chin. This must be the captain.

“Sir.” The Naut Captain nods his head toward Constantin. 

_Right. So the governing starts now I suppose. Time to impress._

“Constantin d’Orsay, future governor of Teer Fradee!” So far so good. But then Constantin’s excitement gets the better of him and he exhales in the same breath, “I’m enchanted Captain! I am eager to board your ship!”

_Too much?_

The Captain looks a little surprised by his enthusiasm. He nods his head in turn and replies politely back, “Enchanted as well, Your Highness! I hope you enjoy your voyage!”

“Are you ready? Can we weigh anchor?”

 _Definitely way too excited. Calm down you twat. Professional, be professional!_ Constantin can feel the spirit of Sir de Courcillon like a tiny saint on his shoulder, shaking his head in shame. 

“We should be able to set sail with the tide, as agreed upon.” replies the Captain. Constantin likes this man. He is patient, yet no nonsense. 

Alexandre speaks up, “Permission to come aboard? We are ready.” The formality of his address to the captain stands in stark contrast to Constantin’s. 

With one last assurance that all is in order, the captain starts to lead them towards the Sea Horse. Constantin feels his excitement build even more until he feels like he is bursting at the seams. He hasn’t felt this way since his first Saint Maltheus day as a child, waking up to a room full of presents for him and Alexandre to tear open.

He gushes as the three of them follow the captain, “I am so eager to discover Teer Fradee...My isle...my new city!”

“You’ll need to arm yourself with patience.” Alexandre gently says. “The voyage will be long. I’ve been told the trip lasts months…”

_Buzzkill, definitely need to get him to take breaks more often._

Kurt also chimes in. “And they say the place is full of gigantic creatures...As big as buildings!”

Now that’s a thought. But it doesn’t terrify Constantin as much as it fascinates him. A whole new world full of amazing creatures! It seems unreal. THIS seems unreal. As he thinks of the wondrous animals they will encounter, a thought returns to him from the night before and a conversation in the tavern three drinks before memory wiping level.

“That’s right! I heard a rumour the Nauts even brought one back in one of their ships.”

“I doubt that,” says Kurt. “The Nauts are strange, but they’re not idiots!”  
__________________________________________________________

_Nauts, you fucking idiots!_

Constantin is furious, but he is also afraid. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more afraid in his whole life. 

_Alexandre!_

Constantin doesn’t even feel himself running towards his cousin who had just won an impossible fight against a monstrous creature from the island. By all reason, he should be dead. But he is alive, albeit a little worse for wear. Alexandre can barely stand. He holds his left shoulder carefully and is panting with exertion. He doesn’t react to Constantin when he reaches him, but continues to stare at the beast's body, his brow furrowed in thought. Maybe even a touch of sadness. Constantin reaches out to him. He gingerly pats his arm and chest, checking for any broken bones. He frantically moves to check his legs when Alexandre grabs his hands, preventing him from bending down. When he meets his eyes, Alexandre gives him a slight nod, communicating silently that he is ok. Constantin sighs in relief. 

_Come now, let’s lend them a hand._ What an idiot he had been. Alexandre almost died! Constantin looks at the fallen beast with a shudder. Its body appears to be made of both flesh, rock, and bark all at once, with great branches sticking out of its back and forehead. The mouth lies slightly open to show the beast’s massive array of sharp teeth, all canines, meant for ripping flesh. The beast is enormous. Constantin remembers its foul breath on his face. He was so close to it. And he was paralyzed with fear. He remembers the cracking of wood and seeing the mast of the ship crashing towards him. But his legs did nothing. He couldn’t get them to move despite his brain yelling MOVE...DANGER...MOVE DAMMIT...DANGER. Alexandre had pulled him away and in doing so had put himself right into the creature’s path. 

Even with the beast behind him, Alexandre had turned towards them shouting, “Kurt! Captain! Keep my cousin safe!”

Of course he was safe. He had ran away like a coward. He had left his cousin behind...with that….that thing. Never again.

Kurt has also run forward. “Green Blood! How do you fare?”

“Fine..fine...” Alexandre replies, then a little more softly, “It is dead.”

“Are you wounded?” Kurt cuts in. He moves to check just as Constantin had done.   
“I’m well!” Alexandre reassures. “Your lessons have proven effective.” He gives Kurt a smile, but Constantin frowns. It isn’t like the smile that he gets when he tells Alexandre a joke or makes a fool of himself. It’s off. 

Although he has already been asked several times if he is ok, Constantin can’t help but check in, albeit with a different approach, testing the waters. “Cousin! What a fight! You were illustrious!”

“I’m not of the same mind. I had the feeling it was already weakened. I did nothing more than finish it off.”

_Well, that’s a troubling thought. Or is this Alexandre being Alexandre?_

“Your humility remains a constant, but believe me. That battle was absolutely epic!” Constantin flourishes. And he turns to his cousin, giving him a big smile. A little forced maybe, his heart is still pounding.   
_________________________________________________

Not even an hour later they are on the sea, their voyage to Teer Fradee well underway. 

The crew is still a little tense from the encounter with the beast, but their hearts are lightened by one certain future governor. 

Constantin had all but sprinted up the ramp to the ship. The men paused in their work to look at the man spinning ‘til he was dizzy upon the deck, shouting out his joy for all to hear it. Many may have heard it and looked down upon the man. Was this really the future governor? But a small few heard it and recognized it for what it really was: the sound of a man made free.


	3. It's Not a Boat. It's a Ship.

The deck of the Sea Horse was bustling with activity as the night crew prepared to take over for the day. 

Alexandre rests his back against the railing of the bow’s port side. In his hands is a book, ‘A Field Guide to the Mammals of the Continent.’ The book contains an assortment of essays on diverse mammalian groups from various regions including Serene, Theleme, and the Bridge Alliance’s territories. He sits with his legs crossed; a journal is balanced on his knee and he keeps a quill between his lips. Every once in a while, Alexandre pauses to add notes to the journal.

_It had a tough exterior with antlers that appeared of wood. Based on Sir Dillion’s Botanical Guide, it appears closest to oak. It could remove pieces of wood without any significant damage. A mutualistic relationship between two separate organisms perhaps? Used woody spines as projectiles._

Alexandre records memories of the creature he faced two days prior on Serene. 

_One leg completely taken over by root like branching. Maybe not mutualism. Parasitism? Or do the plant like roots make up its entire body? No. Blood suggests an underlying cardiovascular system; eyes and behavior suggest an advanced nervous system. Other foot human in form. Bipedalism possible, but preference for walking on forelimbs. Would compare to an ape, but the creature did not balance weight on the knuckles, but on the wrist. Strong jaw. Carnivore. Hair present on its back. I’m cross-checking features to local mammals._

“How am I not surprised, dear cousin, to find your nose nestled deep into a book on what is not even our second day of adventure?”

Constantin grabs the book out of Alexandre’s hands before he can respond. He reads the title and scrunches up his nose, giving Alexandre an incredulous look. 

Alexandre smirks and rolls his eyes, grabbing the book back from Constantin.

“There are going to be several creatures new to us on the island, Constantin. But even animals between Theleme and Al Saad can share features depending on their environment. The more we know about them, the better we can live with them. Plus, you never know what could be a lead for the malichor...”

“Don’t act like this is a chore for you. You’re loving this.”

“...”

“I rest my case.” Constantin moves to sit beside him. “Well, what did you make of it? The creature?”

Alexandre frowns, pausing before answering. The beast had seemed sad. It was afraid of dying. Alexandre thinks. It was angry, but more-so it was confused. It knew it didn’t belong there. Such thoughts wouldn’t stand up to peer review. 

Constantin patiently waits for his answer. 

“You may think me crazy...but it was a shame to have to kill it. It...it was like it was aware. It was intelligent enough to be afraid.”

“Intelligent enough to be afraid?” his cousin gently prods.

“Yes,” Alexandre begins to speak more passionately. “Fear and mourning are signs of incredible intelligence. All creatures react to danger, but only more complex ones show awareness of that danger. Would we act any differently than it? You were locked up yourself that very morning with no idea of where you were. When you saw an opening, you attacked me because at the time you saw no other option. It’s instinctual for us to escape danger. Fear drives our next actions. Fight or flight. We were the threat in its eyes. It too had no idea where it was and they had driven nails into its arms and legs to keep it in place! Before I...before I shot it...it...it looked at me. It looked at me as if it were accepting of its fate, as if it knew that it couldn’t escape. It knew Constantin.” 

Constantin remains silent. He too is in thought. He finally speaks. 

“Many men wouldn’t think twice. To kill it.”

Alexandre frowns and then replies bitterly, “I wonder how much knowledge has been lost because our first instinct is to get rid of or control what we don’t understand?”

Constantin turns to Alexandre and grabs his hands. “I promise you, cousin. As governor, I will never let what transpired at Serene happen again. All ships will be checked at the port for transportation of living creatures. Only smaller and baser organisms will be allowed to make the journey. And their journey will be absolutely humane.”

“Tell that to the Bridge Alliance.”

“Fuck the Bridge Alliance.” Constantin releases his hands and turns to rest his head on the deck railing. He closes his eyes. 

Alexandre gives a small smile and looks back down at his book. 

The two cousins sit for a while, as the sun sets, enjoying the comfortable silence between them. 

After a beat, Constantin breaks the silence. “Will you read to me?”

“Won’t you find it boring?”

“Maybe it won’t be entirely awful. Are those adorable otter creatures in there? I hear that they hold hands while they sleep on the water so they don’t get separated.”

________________________________

It had been two months since they had left Serene. 

To Alexandre’s delight and Constantin’s bane, the Sea Horse was a university upon the water. Each day, after breakfast, the two would report to the lower deck to meet with Sir de Courcillon. There was much to be learned about Teer Fradee and little time to do it. With new cities and rulers came new lords and ladies to please, each with new vices and preferences. How did Theleme and the Bridge Alliance on the island fare with the long-standing war on the Continent? What was New Serene’s standing between them both? Not only did the King of Merchants expect the two cousins to maintain peace, establish long-term economy, and set up negotiations with the local nations, but there was the unspoken expectation of finding the cure for the malichor. 

Within the first week, Sir de Courcillon had established a routine:

_0600 - 0700 Breakfast  
0715-0900 Foundations of San Matheus and Hikmet  
0915-1030 Teer Fradee: Known Geography, Zoology, and Botany  
1100-1200 Lunch  
1230-1400 Royal Houses OR Economics of New Serene  
1400 - 1500 Combat Training/Tactics with Kurt  
1500-1600 Native Linguistics  
1630-1730 Local Religions  
1730-1900 Supper _

Afternoon training with Kurt was a lightsend for Constantin. Training was done on the deck. After hours of being surrounded by books, it was a joy to feel the fresh sea air on his face and to stretch his muscles. Like Sir de Courcillion, it seemed that Kurt too took his role of preparing the cousins for the island with renewed vigor. His training was ruthless. Both of the cousin’s showed much improvement. Constantin could make it through training without puking over the portside within only the first two weeks. A personal record. 

To Constantin’s jealousy, Sir de Courcillon would sometimes alter the schedule for Alexandre, allowing him more training time. Understandable, given that Alexandre’s job as a diplomat would require him making long journeys through uncharted land to strengthen and begin relationships with the various nations on the isle. But that didn’t stop the complaining of Constantin’s hind end as it was stuck in a chair studying for hours on end. On many such days, Constantin would finish his studies and go straight to bed, head pounding. One time he had not even made it out of his clothes or shoes, but had fallen right asleep on his cot. He had woken up in the middle of the night to find his shoes laid on the floor beside him, a blanket draped over him that he didn’t remember grabbing. Exhausted, it didn’t take long for sleep to take him again, the creaking of the boat and the gentle snores from Alexandre’s neighboring cot drifting him back to sleep. 

Thursday training consisted of scrimmages. Such day’s training was not just a needed break for Constantin and Alexandre, but also the crew. On an increasingly regular basis, the crew would stop work to watch the cousins fight. It wasn’t everyday that one would get to see fighting between lords that had been trained with the sword since they could walk.

“My dear cousin, you can wave your hand in surrender any time you wish. A water break perhaps? You look a little flushed.” 

The two cousins have shed their shirts and were circling each other on the deck, a small circle of crew members surrounding them. They had been at it for nearly an hour. Kurt stands nearby, arms crossed, eyes vigilant. He watches for small errors between the two that could mean the difference between life and death in a real fight. 

“Me? Flushed?” Alexandre laughs. “You should see yourself Constantin! Lady Verona may have a twin!”

*Shudders* “Ugh! Horrendous woman! How could no one ever tell her she looked like a walking jester corpse with all that powder and rouge. Alas, I’ll never forget the day she tried to court me. I still get nightmares.”

Kurt chimes in. “Get to the point, lads.”

“Dear Captain, has no one ever taught you the importance of foreplay with a la…!”

Constantin barely has time to move out of the way as Alexandre jabs forward. 

_So that’s how you want to play it, huh, cousin?”_

Alexandre is skilled without a doubt. His moves are calculated and his footing sure. Hitting Alexandre is like hitting a wall...if that wall had the tendency to hit back. But where Alexandre is a wall, Constantin is a river. He has a natural instinct to his movements. His strikes are unpredictable and as far as defense goes, just when Alexandre thinks he has him, Constantin moves away, like water slipping through the cracks of one’s hand. 

But weeks of extra training give Alexandre a slight edge up. And even unpredictability can only go so far when up against a man that has now been trained in every combat style and taught to react to all manner of attack.

Constantin lunges to the side, clearing Alexandre’s forward attack. He sees an opening to Alexandre’s sword arm which is held out from his missed jab. Constantin turns his sword in a flourish to strike. He swears he has him. Alexandre did not possibly have enough time to move backward nor to move his sword arm up without Constantin being able to knock the sword out of his hands.

 _Yes!_ Constantin revels. He had his hit!

In a flourish, Alexandre drops his sword from his right hand and moves it to his left. 

_What?!_

Constantin barely has time to think before Alexandre uses the sword in his non-dominant hand to twist his own sword away, the force causing it to fly from Constantin’s hands. In that same beat, he steps forward and sweeps Constantin’s legs out from underneath him.

Constantin falls, his head hitting hard on the wooden deck, making him see stars. When he looks up, Alexandre is smirking down at him, his sword arm lowered. But Constantin isn’t going down without a fight. He uses his arms to prop himself forward so that his left leg can push himself back up and his right can be used to kick backward, using the hinge to capture and pull his cousin forward and down to the ground as well. Twisting himself up and around Alexandre’s body, he pins him to the ground. The two scrabble on the ground for a bit. Alexandre bucks up in an attempt to free himself from Constantin’s grasp, but his grip is relentless. Eventually, with a sigh of defeat, Constantin feels his cousin’s body relax beneath him. Alexandre closes his eyes and two lie there, Alexandre’s hands still pinned, both of them panting from the exertion of the fight.

After his heart rate has slowed enough, Constantin softens his grip, but doesn’t let go. He nods to Alexandre’s left hand. “How long has this been a thing?” 

Alexandre is still catching his breath, but eventually opens his eyes, looking to the sky as he answers. “Kurt’s suggestion.*pant* Said learning to be ambidextrous would bring an element of surprise. *pant* Thought it would work well against slippery cousins.” 

Constantin smiles. “And how well did that work out for you?”

Alexandre looks at him. “I’d say pretty well considering it was my first time.”

“I was your first? Oh cousin, I’m touched!” Constantin teases without thinking. His teasing was getting more vulgar of late. Too much time around sailors. 

Alexandre blushes. Where he would typically jibe back, he is silent.

 _Oh..._

And just like that Constantin is sure he is overthinking it. Was Alexandre still a virgin? Granted, he’s never shared any stories with Constantin (but he had always thought that was because Alexandre was the definition of a gentleman). And sure, he constantly kept himself busy. When he wasn’t working for the better of all of Serene, he had his nose in a book. But surely not! He couldn’t be...could he?

The two cousins just stare at each other for a beat. Constantin tilts his head and his eyebrows furrow as he searches for answers to the pile of questions that come one right after the other with this new revelation. Under his scrutiny, Alexandre’s blush deepens further. Constantin thought he had caught his breath, but for some reason his heart starts to speed up again...

“Green Blood! How many times do I have to say it? Keep yourself grounded, even when you think a fight is won!” 

Constantin flinches, letting go of Alexandre’s wrists. The moment, whatever it was, is broken. His questions will have to wait for later. 

As Kurt walks forward, Constantin gets up and reaches down to help Alexandre to his feet. Alexandre only has time to give him a grateful nod before his attention is captured by the captain, who immediately jumps into coaching the legate in slight changes that need to be made to his form. 

Constantin watches the pair for a moment. He takes in the way Alexandre listens attentively to the constructive criticism. He had thought he had known everything about his cousin. They had been practically inseparable since childhood. How could he have missed this?

“It is nearly time for your linguistics lesson, my lord.” 

Sir de Courcillon calls to him from the entryway to the lower decks. Without speaking, Constantin gives him a nod and makes his way to the door. As he reaches the steps, he looks back. 

He feels his heart jump into his throat when he finds Alexandre looking at him. Kurt is still talking to the legate, unaware that his attention is diverted elsewhere. Constantin feels himself pinned by the gaze. He feels his heart rate pick-up again, as it had just moments before. After what feels like an eternity later, Alexandre turns back to Kurt and the spell is broken.

Constantin exhales at his release and finds himself running down the stairs. He quickly reaches his cabin to change for his evening lessons. As he closes the door, he turns, resting his back against it. He raises his hand to his heart. It’s still beating fast. His eyebrows furrow in confusion.

 _What the hell is this?_

He would dwell on it further, but Sir de Courcillon will not tolerate tardiness.


	4. A Broken World

He is home again. 

The trip to Teer Fradee had been fruitful. A plant native to the island had been discovered by the Congregation to have amazing healing properties. Samples were quickly shipped to the Continent for testing. Potions were quickly made and transported all over the continent for those suffering from the malichor. 

Alexandre and Constantin returned to Serene around the same time as the arrival of these new potions. In addition, Alexandre had returned to deliver updates on the island of Teer Fradee and the booming relationships with its inhabitants. Constantin’s reasons for returning were more somber. He had returned to the news that his father had taken ill, and his time was short. Constantin d’Orsay would soon be crowned the new prince of the Congregation of Merchants.

The cousins were welcomed with open arms. The air was light and banners of various and vibrant colors were hung throughout the city of Serene. The whole city rejoiced at the end of the malichor. Festivals were a constant over the course of the next month. Even with the eventual prince’s passing, the funeral had an air of lightness, as the prince was celebrated for the voyages that aided in the healing of Serene. 

Alexandre had made it in time. His mother had managed to hold on to life just in time to get the potion. Her body would remain scarred by the disease, but she no longer felt pain. Eventually, she mustered up the courage to even leave her room. She became a symbol of hope, her scars not a story of loss, but a victory cry of survival. 

The world was becoming a beautiful place. 

One day, Alexandre and Constantin are walking through the city of New Serene. “I have a surprise for you”, Constantin had said before they had left. Now they walk in comfortable silence, making their way towards the main city square. Along the way, people bow to them with the occasional “my lords” out of respect. When they reach the square, Alexandre’s breath catches. 

A new building is erected to the north of the square. Its architecture is absolutely exquisite. White columns line its face, reaching upwards towards a frieze depicting the story of the island’s discovery and the end harmony of its different factions. In the middle of the frieze, is a book with the malichor healing plant reaching upward out of it towards the sun. But that isn’t the most exquisite part. A simple marble sign lies at the base of the steps leading up to the building. “Library” it reads.

“Library?”

“‘I wonder how much has been lost because our first instinct is to get rid of what we don’t understand.’ You had told that to me once. This is a place where all can go, no matter their standing, to get access to knowledge. The more our people understand, the more we invest in them, the more we all get back.”

Constantin leads Alexandre up the stairs to the library and they enter it for the first time. 

“...Constantin....it’s...it’s magnificent!” He feels out of breath.

Constantin laughs, “Well, that’s the idea anyway.” A glint of mischief enters his eyes. “Though I doubt anyone will rival your taste for reading boring books. What was the last one? Medicinal Herbs of Teer Fradee and Where to Find Them?”

They walk further into the library, passing aisles and aisles of books. Alexandre feels himself get dizzy with excitement. 

“Hey! I’ll have you know that came in handy!”

“Really? I guess I missed the part where that book saved you from the savage attack along the trade route between New Serene and Hikmet.”

“Jokes on you because there was a poison in that book that I used on my sword that…”

“I wouldn’t put anything of the sort on your sword if I were you.”

“Oh, for the love of! Constantin!”

The pair stops and Constantin claps Alexandre on the shoulder and squeezes, meaning to bring comfort to his teasing. At the touch, Alexandre feels warmth rush through him. It runs to his stomach and settles there, warming him from the inside out. He eyes dart to Constantin and he stills. Constantin is looking at him with a hunger that he has never seen on the face of his cousin before. Alexandre suddenly feels like he can’t get enough air. He licks his lips nervously and Constantin’s eyes follow the motion. His heart is beating so fast. 

“You’re just so bloody good at everything aren’t you?” Constantin squeezes his shoulder even more.

“I...” Alexandre stammers, then coughs, trying to get his voice back.

_But I’m not...I’m not good at everything._

“You’re so good for me, aren’t you?”

Alexandre gasps. The warmth that had settled in his stomach turns into a spark and runs south. He feels too hot and… _Oh god_ , he’s getting hard.

Suddenly he finds himself pinned, just as he had been during their practice on the voyage to Teer Fradee. That moment feels like a lifetime ago. He doesn’t have time to think before Constantin is attacking his neck, giving it small kisses and bites that have Alexandre whimpering. He blushes. He shouldn’t be making such sounds. They’re shameful. They shouldn’t be doing this. He tries to move his hands, intent on stopping the noises escaping his mouth, but Constantin’s grip on his wrists is unrelenting. Constantin rewards his struggle with a particularly hard bite to the neck, followed by comforting licks.

“Aha! Fuck!” 

The following apologetic bite has Alexandre moaning. More heat rushes south and he feels himself harden even further. 

“Language, dear cousin,” chides Constantin. He starts to make his way further down Alexandre’s neck and to the small expanse of chest exposed by his shirt. He peppers kisses between his words“...What would...our parents say...to that mouth.” 

“Constantin,” Alexandre half-gasps, half-whines and Constantin releases his wrists as he lifts up to straddle him, his eyes growing even darker as his pupils dilate more. When he lifts, he brings his own erection against Alexandre’s. The pressure makes Alexandre’s breath hitch. Constantin looks down at him with a mischievous smirk and he begins to rock forward. Alexandre is frozen. He’s aching and suddenly it’s too much. He wants, but he doesn’t know what for. Tears start to well up in the corners of his eyes. 

“Please.” Alexandre’s voice cracks. “Please, Constantin. I don’t...I don’t know what to do.” 

He reaches upward, not sure of where to put his hands, but knowing he needs to touch, and Constantin suddenly stills.

Alexandre cries out at the loss of friction.

“Put them back.” Constantin growls and Alexandre feels heat strike through him. “Put them back and I’ll give you fucking everything.” Alexandre freezes at his cousin’s sudden frightening outbursts. He nods his head. His arms return to his side and Constantin picks up that glorious grinding motion again. It doesn’t take long before Alexandre finds himself begging again.

“Please, ahh.” 

“Fuck, Alex.” Constantin starts to speak and it feels like an iron brand just when Alexandre thinks he couldn’t get any hotter. He’s going to self-combust.

“Fuck! You’re so good for me. So good at everything. So good at this. And you do it all for me, left this all for me.”

The words plus the grinding of their hips has Alexandre’s eyes rolling backward and he forgets to control his moans. He starts to moan and pant at every thrust of Constantin’s body against his own. 

“Yes, cousin, that’s it. You getting close? Keep those hands right where they are. That’s it. So perfect. That’s right. Come for me Alex, come on, let me have it all.”

The orgasm racks through Alexandre’s body. Constantin repins his wrists again to keep him still and the limited mobility has him shaking and crying out from the intensity of it. Constantin continues to thrust long after the waves of orgasm, causing him to whimper at the pressing of cloth against his sensitive flesh. Eventually, he stills, grunting and tightening his hold on Alexandre’s wrists as he comes, collapsing against Alexandre’s chest. Both cousins lie there, breathing hard. Alexandre turns his head to tide, closing his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

When he opens his eyes his blood runs cold.

His mother is looking right at them. 

Her blind eyes somehow see them and show hatred that he doesn’t recognize. 

“Mother!” Alexandre gasps. 

“You were supposed to save the world and this is what you do!” she shrieks. Terrifyingly, the malichor scars start to fester. Blood starts to pool from her eyes.

“...I” His voice catches.

“Your cousin! Alexandre! He’s your fucking cousin for light’s sake!”

Hot shame fills his face. He’s never heard his mother speak in this way. This isn’t right. The doctors warned them against anything that would excite her. The stress could kill her. 

“I...I can explain...mother, please you’re not well!”

Then suddenly, she is not alone. She is surrounded by hundreds of family...friends...strangers. All of them in various stages of disease. They crowd the aisles, moaning in pain, looking to get closer to Alexandre and Constantin. 

He looks back up to Constantin, hoping for help, for answers, and screams when he sees his cousin’s face mangled by the malichor as well. He pushes him off, scooting backwards until his back hits a shelf, causing books to fall down upon him. Malichor infested hands reach through cracks of the shelf, grabbing at his face and clothes. 

“Constantin! Help!”

His mother has moved forward so that her and Constantin are standing side by side. His cousin is looking at him with anger. 

At the look, Alexandre cries out, looking between the both of them, “I tried! I tried to save the world!”

Constantin glares at him, his face slowly starting to rot away. He sneers…

“Dear cousin, you were supposed to save me.”

With that, Alexandre jolts forward from his cot. For the first time since he was a teenager, he has spent himself. But the warm glow of orgasm is all but gone. His body is covered in sweat and he instantly knows he is going to be sick. He quickly removes himself from the cot, so not to awaken his neighbors and runs out of the cabin, up the stairs to the main deck to be sick over the railing of the ship.”

The nightmare will keep him awake til’ morning.


	5. Still Not a Boat

_It was the stress. It could happen to anyone. It doesn’t mean anything._

“Alexandre.”

_You’ve been stuck on a boat for the better part of two months. Bound to make anyone go crazy._

“Alexandre?”

_Everyone must have a weird one off sex dream once in their life, right? It’s like thinking about your parents having sex, you don’t want to think it and it doesn’t mean anything, but then, shit, there it is.”_

“Green Blood!” 

_Maybe it means something completely different in a dream._

“If you agree to buy me drinks for the rest of my life Green Blood AND that I can sweep you on your ass right here and now, don’t say anything.” 

_Like dreaming of your teeth falling signifies a major life change. Maybe it symbolizes the...the...well, maybe there’s a book on it._

“Instructions received loud and clear, my lord!” 

And then Alexandre’s world is tilting as he is, surprisingly, thrown on his ass. He looks up, sputtering, to the uncontrolled laughter of Captain Kurt and Captain Vasco. 

“What the hell was that for?!” 

A couple wheezing moments of laughter and Kurt gets ahold of himself. “Captain Vasco here was just telling me what to expect when we land in a couple of weeks. Reckoned you would want to know as well?” 

“You could have just asked!” 

“I did, Green Blood.” He chortles. “I did.” 

“We can all go to my cabin to discuss, if you’d like,” says Vasco. 

In the last month, Alexandre had grown rather fond of the captain. They had a rough start for sure. He thought at first that the captain was simply a formal man, but when he saw the captain in lighthearted conversation with Kurt, he realized it was him. The captain thought he was a typical nobleman at first, the spoiled nephew of the prince. It must have been that first impression. Who knew a Naut could get so offended over a slight of terms? Ship? Boat? Nothing to string a man up for. 

Then one evening, Alexandre had gone to the captain’s cabin to check in and saw the array of firearms decorating the walls of the cabin. He forgot his original question about the remaining fruit stores and surprised the captain with eager, rapid fire questions about the guns on the wall. Alexandre himself was an avid collector. The history of the weapon’s design was a fascinating one. Since then, he learned that Vasco was quite the dualist. It didn’t take long for the two men to talk for hours about the different makes and models in their individual collections. By the second month, Alexandre learned that the captain also had a quite extensive knowledge of poisons. He talked de Courcillon into letting the captain take over one of his lessons each week to pass on what he knew. 

And so a comfortable understanding grew between the captain and the legate. During their down time, Alexandre and Vasco had taken to setting up small targets ranging from rotting fruit to bits of painted wood, creating a makeshift shooting range off the stern side of the boat. It was a welcome change of pace to the long days at sea. Alexandre wouldn’t say they were friends persay; the captain still refused to call him by his first name and maintained an ever present air of professionalism. Yet, the two enjoyed each other's company. And Alexandre enjoyed the glimpses of subtle humor that came from the captain on occasion. It seemed today was one such occasion. 

“Should I go get Constantin?” Alexandre asks. 

“Actually,” says Vasco, the two captains grin, “there lies the next question. How would you like to play a prank on the dear princling?”  
___________________________________ 

Ever since the fight, Constantin couldn’t help but wonder if Alexandre was avoiding him. Was he really that embarrassed for Constantin to learn he was a virgin? I mean, sure, the news was a bit surprising, given what a catch his fair cousin was, but it was nothing to be overly upset about. Many a noblewoman and man had made the conscious decision to wait until a match was made for them. It wasn’t unheard of. It was a mistake to not immediately seek him out in conversation. It allowed the awkwardness to grow and build space between them. 

When they had first embarked, Constantin and Alexandre had spent almost all of their downtime together, either with playing cards, fencing, or in conversation. But lately Constantin would seek out Alexandre after lessons, only to find him occupied with his own lessons, training with the master of arms, or at the quaint shooting range with the captain. Alexandre had also taken to having his meals with the main crew. Constantin would as well, but as they drew closer to the islands, de Courcillon insisted on even using lunch and supper time in preparation. Who knew one could see so little of a person on a ship in the middle of nowhere? 

Constantin was never quite good at being alone. In Serene, he didn’t have very many friends beyond Alexandre. At court, any person of his age seemed to have no other interest besides making a good impression with the prince in order to increase their own standing. And so, starting at the age of sixteen, he took to dressing like a commoner and going to the local taverns. He would run his mouth and either people would love it or they would hate it. No longer would people smile and let him get away with a particularly crude comment. There were many fights that ensued and Constantin revelled in them. He had never felt so alive. 

There were no such moments of respite on the ship. And Constantin was starting to feel the itch under his skin. 

He did his best to strike up conversation with the Nauts, and although the men and women would laugh with delight at the unexpected, witty humor from the young man, the fact that he was the prince’s son, maintained a safe distance from him. He felt like he was talking all the time, and yet, he was alone. 

He enjoyed conversing with Kurt and Captain Vasco. The master of arms and the captain didn’t step on their toes around him. Constantin’s heart swelled when he could get either of the stoic men to laugh. He even took to playing small, random pranks on the captain. Dumb things like moving all the furniture of his cabin around or balancing a bucket of water on his door. Well, Sir de Courcillon had actually been the one to fall prey to that one. _Whoops._ The captain would put on a pretense of being annoyed, but Constantin saw the small smile that graced his lips when he thought no one was looking. If the captain wasn’t so serious, he would surely get payback for the pranks. The three of them got along well. But the two captains had several responsibilities that demanded much of their time. 

And so Constantin did the only other thing he could to distract himself. He *shudders* worked. 

Mr de Courcillon was stunned when Constantin had asked for records on New Serene to study in his down time. 

_Father would be so proud._

He settled into his own routine. Lessons during the day, governing during the night. He would work on the main deck, the cool breeze of evening and the stars giving him mental clarity. When he set his mind to it, Constantin found he actually enjoyed imagining the future of New Serene. He researched new state of the art businesses and government facilities that were making an impact on other nations. The Bridge Alliance, for example, were starting to offer their people access to buildings full of free books that entire towns could share. Alexandre would love that idea. And with one idea came another. His ideas seemed to get even more creative and Constantin felt bursting at the seams to discuss them with New Serene’s advisors. 

He still missed the comforting presence of his cousin. With many ideas, he felt an immediate need to find Alexandre and offer them as presents. But the awkward rift was there. And Constantin didn’t know how to fix it. 

One evening, Constantin makes his way to his usual spot and finds it already occupied. Standing there, leaning with his elbows against the railings is Alexandre. He is facing forward, towards the sea, but looks down at his hands. In them is a coin, rather large in size. He doesn’t notice Constantin. 

Should he stay? Constantin’s consciousness wages war with itself before chickening out and he takes a step backward. 

Of course the entire world conspires against him as a loose wood board squeaks beneath his feet. 

Alexandre turns and then there it is. The rift. Constantin can feel it in the air between them. Suffocating. The two stare at each other. If this is going to get better he has to say something. 

_Speak, you idiot!_

“...Hi” 

_Oh, well articulated that. Brilliant from the future governor._

“Hi…” Alexandre replies. He looks to the left, clearly uncomfortable. “Nice night?” 

“Yes. It is.” 

_The weather? Really? Niip it, Constantin!_

“What are you doing out here?” Constantin asks. 

He notices Alexandre look down at the coin, now held in his left hand. He continues before Alexandre answers the question. 

“That’s lovely. I haven’t seen a coin of the like before. From where did it come?” 

Alexandre looks up a little surprised by his cousin’s attentiveness. 

“My mother. She gave it to me before I left.”  
“May I look at it?” 

“Yeah...yes, of course.” 

Constantin walks toward him. The air still feels thick. He reaches out to take the coin that Alexandre offers. It is heavier than it looks. He turns it in his hand. It is silver in appearance and slightly tarnished. On its face there are intricate swirls and geometric crossings. 

“Fascinating!” Constantin can’t help but exhale. “Do you know where she got it?” 

“She said it was a family heirloom. That it would bring me good luck.” 

“Fascinating.” Constantin repeats as he passes the coin back. A family heirloom? Curious. He had never seen the likes of it before. Alexandre takes it and turns back towards the ocean. He turns the coin back over in his hand again. 

… 

The silence returns and Constantin starts to inwardly panic. He has to push through. But for the first time in his life, he struggles with what to say. 

“I miss her.” 

He whips his head up to look at Alexandre. He is looking back out to the sea, a frown on his face. Alexandre continues, 

“I left her all alone, she said there was nothing that I could do by staying and I know she’s right but…” 

“You give her a greater gift, cousin. You give her hope that you will be a part of the mission that will save her people, OUR people.” 

“And what if I don’t, find a cure that is.” 

“You won’t.” 

Alexandre whips his head, eyes full of shock, he must have heard him wrong. Before he can say anything, Constantin explains. 

“You won’t, because this isn’t your burden alone cousin. WE will find the cure.” 

Alexandre shakes his head, frustration in his eyes. He grits his teeth. “And how can you say that?! What if there is no cure? What if this is just a big waste of time?" 

“We have to believe it's not.” 

“We don’t live in a fairytale, Constantin. Things don’t always turn out well in the end." 

“And does believing it won’t make it better?” 

“You can afford to believe it will, can’t you? That’s your job isn’t it, to see the good in everything to think that everything will work out? My job is to be realistic and hide all the shit from you.” 

… 

The air gets even thicker at that. Spite is clearly evident in his cousin’s voice. Constantin feels his heart drop. Has he felt that way this whole time? 

Alexandre sighs, his shoulders slump. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was beneath me. I don’t mean it.” 

“No..no you’re right.” 

Alexandre gives him a questioning gaze. Constantin goes on, he stumbles nervously over his words. “I’ve...I’ve never taken things seriously. I know that. I always make a mess, been a terrible disappointment…” 

“You’re not a dis…” 

Constantin puts up his hand. “No, let me finish...I make a right mess of many things and you have always been there...to clean it up. I...I apologize, dear cousin. I want you to know that I’ve been thinking a lot of late. Of how I can make things better...how I can be better. And I want you to know I will be...I have a lot of ideas...for New Serene. We are going to make a difference. I know it. But you must promise me that you are honest with me. If this is going to work, you can’t hide the “shit” as you say. We are in this...together. You let the world weigh in too hard on your shoulders, dear cousin, the least you can do is share it.” 

Alexandre is looking at him with shock in his eyes. Did he go too far? Was he being naive again? He feels his heart beat frantically as he waits for Alexandre’s response. 

After what feels like many moments later, Alexandre’s shoulders relax and he smiles. He offers forward his hand. 

“Deal.” He says. 

_I’ve done it!_ Constantin inwardly cheers. 

He grabs his cousin’s hand and gives it a good shake. Then after a beat, the two laugh and move forward into an embrace, patting each other on the back. They separate and both turn towards the ocean once more, looking out into the still dark waters. 

The air is so much lighter, but still tinged with a touch of sadness. The two stand close enough for their shoulders to touch, so Constantin can feel it when his cousin’s shoulders fall once more. 

“I am going to miss her...so much.” 

He places a comforting hand on his cousin’s back. “I will miss her too….” Constantin pauses and then smiles when a memory comes to him. “Remember that one day that you were grounded the entire month for forgetting to knock as you entered the ambassador of Theleme’s room. What did you catch him doing again? Wasn’t there a goat involved?” 

Alexandre starts to laugh. “Oh! You really don’t want to know!” 

“Then,” Constantin can hardly get the words out for laughing, “When they told me you couldn’t come out of your room to play, I had all the doors in the guest wing of the palace removed?” 

“What do you mean, auntie?” Alexandre mimics a young Constantine. “Of course he forgot to knock. You can’t knock without a door! Oh, my mother was absolutely furious!” Alexandre laughs even harder till tears come to his eyes. Constantin feels himself get lighter. They can get past this, things will go back to normal. 

“In her defense, it really was a terrible habit, dear cousin.” 

“Really? You’ve never complained about me not knocking on your door?” 

“Well. I happen to love a good show of exhibition, don’t I?” 

“Oh, shut it!” 

“Gasp. Just because you’re a legate, how does that give you the right to..” 

“Ah, of course, my apologies. Shut it, your royal highness.” 

“There, that’s better.” 

The two cousins continue to laugh and joke throughout the night. If anyone notices the increased time the cousins spend together during the last couple of weeks of the voyage, they don’t mention it.  
_______________________________________ 

Constantin would by lying if he said he didn’t almost die from laughter witnessing that poor crewman dive bombed by seagulls. 

“Teer Fradee!! Ahoy!!!” The cry comes from the crow’s nest. 

They’ve arrived! 

The next few moments feel like a dream in which the speed is dialed up. 

Captain Vasco moves to and fro on the deck, barking out orders to the Naut crew as they get closer and closer. Crew members breeze by him, getting ready for disembarkment. Kurt assembles the members of the Coin guard, they gather on the deck standing still as toy soldiers despite the hustle and bustle around them. 

The mountain behind the clouds is a view of wonder! Teer Fradee. His new home. His new city. Constantin feels giddy. 

They dock within the hour. Constantin is beyond excited, but the nerves have definitely started to set in. This is his chance to prove himself. He’ll no longer be a disappointment to his father. He’ll no longer cause trouble for Alexandre with his foolishness. He will make New Serene into a beacon for other cities. 

As the new governor, Constantin gets the privilege of being the first to enter the city. Naut crew lower a ramp making a path from the Sea Horse to New Serene. 

_Oh, dear enlightened one…What is this?_

Three doctors in crow masks stand at the end of the ramp. They block the path to his city. One of them holds a bowl of unknown substance. This...isn’t what he was expecting. 

“What a charming welcoming committee!” Constantin carefully says, not wanting to offend, but also _What the hell?_

“Gentleman, I am Constantin of House Orsay, your new Governor.” He spreads his hands in a flourish at the delivery of his title. He looks between the three strange men. “I have no idea what sort of ceremony you’ve prepared for my arrival, but I would gladly skip it, so please…” He moves to go around the men when one of them shoves the bowl forward with such intensity that it forces him to take a step back. 

_Wow...ok. Manners, Constantin._

“Indeed! Indeed! These are rather peculiar customs” The man pushes the bowl even further, forcing Constantin back until he can go no further without falling off the dock. Now THAT would be a good impression for his first day as governor. 

Constantin starts to panic and it slips into his voice. “I...I...see...it seems you are quite intent on serving me a drink...” _And definitely not the good kind._ Constantin thinks. The smell wafting from the bowl is definitely the worst odor he has ever come across in his entire life. He doesn’t know how to handle this situation. Where the hell is Alexandre? The strange man notices the stress of his voice and brings the bowl back down, giving Constantin a little more personal space, but they do not make to move away. 

They stay unnervingly silent. 

“Hello. Cat got your tongue, gentleman? Would it be those annoying beaks?” Constantin jokes. Humor always did shield him from painful situations. 

Still more silence. 

_Alexandre? Kurt? Anyone? Where are you?!_

To his relief, one of the masked me turns, revealing a woman walking towards them with purpose. Her dress identifies her as noble. The bright red velvet standing out against the drab colors of the port. 

“I am truly sorry, these doctors should have shown a greater measure of courtesy.” The woman approaches the strange men without hesitancy. She has an air about her that can only come from not just nobility but responsibility. This must be Lady Morange, the previous governor of New Serene. The lady gently encourages the doctors to leave. Her tone is both polite, yet uncompromising. “Thank you dear doctors! Move along and go trouble the Nauts…” 

She grabs the bowl with grace and hands it to Constantin. She whispers to him, “Pay no attention to them. Instead just drink!” 

Something about her instantly earns his trust. She reminds him slightly of his aunt upon first impression. Constantin brings the bowl closer to his face and grimaces at the smell. He pauses, just for a moment, as the woman explains, the smell causing him to bring the bowl back down. He doesn’t think he can do this. 

“The long voyages at sea require the appropriate treatment as soon as we land. According to our scientists, without fortifiers, you might catch your death and that would be quite regrettable.” 

Constantin bites the bullet. He holds his breath, so as not to smell the liquid, as he brings the bowl to his mouth. He swallows down the medicine as fast as he can. 

The medicine tastes like dirt and vomit and Constantin swears he sees his life flash before his eyes. The taste is so vile that he has to put his hand in front of his mouth to prevent it from coming back up. 

“I should have chosen death! This concoction is liquid torture!” The woman winces at him in sympathy. 

“I would think that they would have warned you on the ship…?” She is surprised. 

_Yes, one would think._ Constantin wonders if Alexandre will go through the same torture. He makes a mental note to ask the crew if they knew about the customary medicinal greeting. Neglecting such information should not be a repeat offense. 

“Not in the slightest!” Constantin replies. “And you must be Lady Morange, my predecessor?” 

“You are correct.” Lady Morange nods. Before Constantin says another word, he sees Alexandre walking down the ship’s ramp. 

“There you are…” Constantin greets. 

Then he sees them. 

“To your health!” Alexandre toasts with a bowl of medicine just like the one Constantin had. A smirk is on his face. Behind him, Captain Kurt and Captain Vasco each have a bowl of their own. They raise them in Constantin’s direction. 

_Those little shits!_

Constantin’s face heats up. They had known about the medicinal hell awaiting him this entire time! They had been watching his torture! The sadists! 

Captain Vasco goes as far to give him a wink. Constantin feels the bile still in the back of his throat and he wonders if pranking someone will ever be worth it again. The captain certainly got his payback. At his face, Kurt and Captain Vasco start to laugh uncontrollably. Alexandre’s smile widens. He struggles not to laugh in front of the Lady Morange. 

_Well._ Constantin thinks. _On the bright side, it was a welcome I will never forget._


	6. New Serene

As Alexandre watches Constantin struggle with the doctors, he makes a mental note to never get on Captain Vasco’s bad side. His poor cousin’s face is blushing a bright red with embarrassment. Oh, he will definitely tease him about this later, maybe even see if he can buy one of those crow masks to hide in his office. The trio had expected a good laugh, but Constantin’s meeting with the doctors went above and beyond their expectations. If Alexandre had not been given prior warning, he doesn’t know how he would react to the beaked strangers himself. 

He does feel for Constantin slightly when the doctors are shooed away by a noblewoman and his cousin struggles not to puke up the fortifying potion. He wanted to prank Constantin, but he wouldn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize any future political alliances.

“Don’t worry lad, he’ll be fine. That pepper he snuck into my soup is ten times more life threatening than this rose water.” Captain Vasco smirks, he chugs down his own fortifying potion as if it were rum. Maybe pirates have stone stomachs. The captain hadn’t really responded to Constantin’s pepper prank beyond a little blushing of the cheeks. He certainly doesn’t react to the medicinal filth now. 

“I suppose he has had enough though,” Alexandre says. “it wouldn’t do for the new governor of New Serene to puke in front of a lady. I’ll see you later gentlemen.”

Alexandre makes himself known and gets one last jab in. “To your health!” He toasts to his cousin. Alexandre has to put all of his willpower into not laughing as he sees his cousin’s eyes widen in realization, his eyes flitting back to the captains, who offer up their own toast as well. 

Constantin only needs a moment to compose himself and he jokes, “Ahaha! You got your dose of bile, too!” There is a little bit of bite at the end there. Alexandre smiles.

Constantin turns to the lady standing next to him. She wears a red velvet dress with a white color. Her jewelry is perfectly coordinated. Her hair braided and tightly wound at the top of her head with intricate gold beading. She stands poised and graceful with her hands clasped together. If she has noticed the joking on the two cousins’ part, she says nothing of it. 

“Allow me to present to you Lady Morange, and to you my dear Lady, my most trusted cousin.”

The Lady Morange. Alexandre remembers de Courcillion’s lessons on the houses of Serene. The Morange family specialized in the trade of fabrics, introducing reds and vibrant blues to Serene from the Bridge Alliance. Red had since become a mark of nobility. Even the embroidery on the clothes they wore were the handiwork of the Morange family legacy. 

Alexandre offers Lady Morange a slight bow. Constantin looks behind him again and then frowns.

“Where is the captain?” Constantin asks. Alexandre turns back to where he had left the two captains to see Kurt alone. He looks around and finds Captain Vasco in a much less happy position on the right side of the dock. He appears to be arguing with another Naut, this one with more tattoos on her face. An admiral?

“He seems to be preoccupied with some sort of admiral…”

“Indeed...Then I will have to thank him later for this...most marvellous voyage.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Constantin is already planning his payback. Constantin turns to Lady Morange, a sudden lightness to his voice. He’s excited. 

“Excellency, lead me to the palace, I beg you! And...whenever possible...go by way of all the intriguing alley ways. I am dying with impatience to discover this new city…” he turns and, with his palms out as if to gather the whole of New Serene in his arms, proclaims, “My City!” 

He sets out to enter the city gates, Lady Morange protesting behind him, “Ah, Your Excellence, we must wait for our escort!” 

“No need! Have no fear, for I am here to defend you, my lady!”

Alexandre looks after them in amusement. He feels for the Lady Morange. She probably has not met the likes of any nobleman quite like Constantin. She would have to stay on her toes to keep up with him. 

Alexandre himself cannot wait to explore the city of New Serene. The buildings he can see appear new, many with the scaffolding still surrounding them.

He is just about to set off with his master of arms to explore a little when Captain Vasco approaches. He looks annoyed.

“I’ve been skullied,” the captain curses. 

“How so?”

“My admiral laid me off.” Captain Vasco crosses his arms defensively. His face is slightly judgemental. 

_Did we have anything to do with this?_ Alexandre wonders. 

“My cousin was nonetheless delighted with your services. I hope there was no misunderstanding.”

“None,” Captain Vasco sighs, “I’m sure of it. She just ordered me to ‘give you any assistance you might need.’” 

Understanding fills Alexandre. The admiral had heard of the way the captain had worked with them and wanted to improve the Nauts standing with the Merchant Congregation. _Poor man. He was laid off for doing a job well._

“The request doesn’t seem to please you.”

Captain Vasco relaxes a bit and drops his arms. “Don’t take offense, but it’s not pleasant for a captain to abandon his ship. In any case, here I am at your service, for a while!”

Despite his empathy for the man, Alexandre is pleased with this new development. Captain Vasco would be a positive addition, not only for his fighting abilities, but for his stance on commerce and trade routes. 

“Glad to have you Captain Vasco,” says Kurt. He gives the man a sharp pat to the back. The two had developed a mutual understanding during the trip, despite one being captain of land and the other of sea. “I reckon you wouldn’t mind starting by giving us a tour of her,” Kurt says as he nods toward the entrance to New Serene. 

“If I know Constantin,” says Alexandre, “he will be dragging Lady Morange through every nick and cranny of this city. We have plenty of time to explore.”

“Where should we start?” asks Kurt. 

Captain Vasco ponders for a moment and then speaks. “I would say the Tavern, but that may not be the wisest of choices if you have official business later in the day. I’d suggest the market. Trade out some goods if you need to.”

“The market then.”  
___________________________________________

Alexandre had just made his first purchase from the island. He now dons a blue cape with the seal of the Merchant Congregation embroidered on its back. The other two men have also equipped their new purchases. Kurt has a new broadsword that he looks at like a man in love. And Captain Vasco now wears a new hat, although Alexandre swears it looks just like his old one. 

The trio sets out for the governor’s mansion, when a voice yells out to Alexandre. When he looks, he sees a man in the most curious garments. He has a hat of broken limbs in the shape of a crown and his neck is adorned with what looked like giant teeth. His face is painted black and white. The man looks friendly, despite his starting appearance, but that doesn’t stop the majority of shoppers from crossing to the other side of the road to avoid him. He starts talking excitedly to Alexandre as if he knows him, and it takes a moment for Alexandre to realize he is speaking another language. This must be one of the natives from Teer Fradee. What was he doing here?

“Beurd tir to mad on ol menawi! Why are you dressed like this?”

 _What does he mean by that? Does he think I’m a native?_ Alexandre wonders.

“Hello. I’m not one of your people.” Alexandre explains. “I’m the legate of the Merchant Congregation.” This is his first impression with one of the natives. He has to be careful. 

“A legate? Is that someone important?”

He offers the man a smile. “Indeed. I am in charge of diplomatic relationships with other nations.”

The native merchant upon hearing this gets even more excited.

“So you’ll be able to help me! My chief sent me to trade some items with your village. But there are these Bod airni who do not want me to set up shop here.”

“These what?”

“Bod airni, the iron backs...The warriors who protect this village. Every time I come, they take my items without giving me anything in exchange...Please! I don’t understand how things work here...” the native merchant finishes with sadness. 

Alexandre feels both empathy for the man and annoyance towards the guards. Yes, they had certain rules for trade that needed to be followed. But it sounded like no one took the time to explain this to the native merchant. Instead, they left him in a state of confusion by taking his livelihood. The man couldn’t just leave! It would have been such an easy fix too. Establishing trade with the other nations was a key aspect to his role as legate and it seems already that prejudices were making his life much harder. 

Alexandre sighs, “Very well, stay here. I’ll try to clear this up.”

“Adlorhedar on ol menawi! May the earth always be sturdy under your footsteps!”  
______________________________________

With that, the trio heads to the governor’s mansion. Alexandre doubts that Constantin is done with his tour of the city yet, but the diplomatic affairs advisor that Mr de Courcillon had told him about may be able to help him with the native merchant. 

The governor’s mansion is beautiful. He wonders what Constantin will think when he sees it. It is his future home, after all. Two guards stand watch in front of the steps leading up to the mansion. Alexandre passes them with ease, but then hears a woman's voice calling in distress behind him. Another native? Alexandre turns to find a woman dressed similar to the merchant. But she wears no paint on her face. She too has wooden branchings adorning her head. They come out of her hair, but they don’t look added, instead they seem to meld with her, looking like the growing antlers of a deer. Alexandre suddenly gets a flashback to the beast at the port of Serene. The woman is beautiful, with hazel eyes and freckles lining her face. With a start, Alexandre sees a mark, exactly like his own, on the left side of her face.

_What is this?_

“A to, oi Sients radidaw cwint da degwed me en?” The woman gestures to the guard that now holds his spear out. The guard turns to Alexandre, curious as to what he will do with the woman who is speaking to the legate of the congregation with such rude familiarity. He wants a show.

“Attention, soldier!” Alexandre barks. The soldier whips forward, but keeps his spear blocking the woman’s path.

At his words, the woman furrows her brow in confusion. Did she also think he was one of them? Did it have something to do with his birthmark? She speaks now in English.

“Let me pass. I must see the chief of your village!” 

The other guard laughs. 

The woman looks between the two of them. “Whatever could be so funny?” she asks. She knows that they are mocking her. 

Not wanting to start a fight, Alexandre steps in. “Now who would you be to seek an audience with the governor?”

“I am Siora, daughter of Bladnid. My mother is the mal, the chief of our clan.” She stands tall as she says this. “I am here as an emissary of my people, and I must see your chief…the governor.” She glares at the guard.

 _Curious_ thinks Alexandre. _She is not only the representative of her clan, but royalty, yet she travels alone?_

To clarify his understanding, Alexandre asks, “So you are a princess, then?”

“A what?” She doesn’t know whether or not to be offended. 

Alexandre offers her a gentle smile which lasts only a moment before he frowns at the guards and barks, “Let her pass!” Then gently nodding again to Siora, “Your majesty, I am unsure of whether or not the governor is meeting emissaries at this time, but I promise you I will present you, when the time comes...Come.” 

“Princess? Majesty? You are most confusing...But thank you for your help…”

 _She’s cute_ Alexandre thinks as she races to catch up with him. 

The two of them enter the mansion.  
_______________________________________

“As I thought, the governor is not yet in my lady,” Alexandre says to Siora. “And I have business with another of your people that I must attend. If you would like, you can wait here for me. I assure you, it won’t take long.”

Siora looks around, wonder is in her eyes at the marble flooring and intricate wallpaper. Alexandre doesn’t blame her. This was his first time entering the mansion as well. It was quite impressive. 

When he suggests that Siora wait for him in the mansion lobby, she looks at the guards by the different doors. She is clearly uncomfortable.

“You say you have business with my people, the Yecht Fradi, on ol menawi? Can I come? You are the first to talk with kindness to me.”

Siora may provide valuable insight to the situation. Plus, her English was very strong. If Alexandre was to build relationships with the Yecht Fradi, he would need a decent translator. 

“Certainly, your majesty. A merchant from one of your villages has asked me for aid in granting him permission to trade within the city. I think there is a man here that can help him.”

Siora nods in understanding. 

After asking the guard at the door for directions, Alexandre finds himself in a massive library. In an instant, he knows where he is going to spend most of his downtime...if he has any. Further in, he finds the office of the diplomatic affairs advisor, the minister of commercial affairs. After introducing himself and his companions, Alexandre gets right to the point. 

“I would like to talk to you about an islander who is trying to set up shop in our city…”

The minister drove a hard bargain for the sake of formality. Alexandre had to even enlist Sir de Courcillion to convince him the value of forgoing paperwork for the merchant’s patent.The improvement between Serene and Yecht Fradi was well worth it. Alexandre hoped the minister’s annoyance would be temporary. 

Around an hour later, Alexandre had made his way back to the merchant’s stall just to hear that his merchandise had yet again been forcibly taken and that his cousin was arrested, whisked away to the fighting pits. 

And that was how Alexandre found himself looking right into the furious eyes of a massive bull-like creature in the fighting pits a few hours later.

This was shaping up to be a very long day.  
_____________________________________

If you were to tell Constantin that Alexandre had managed to start up a trade stall for the natives, secure their confiscated goods, win against two beasts and a swordsman in the arena, AND earn the freedom of a native sentenced to his death--all these accomplishments right off the boat, he would laugh and tell you that Alexandre could accomplish that much and more in his sleep.

That didn’t stop the pang in his chest when Alexandre entered the meeting hall with bruises covering his entire body and a slight limp to his step. 

_Dear cousin. What have you done this time?_

Before he can say anything, Alexandre gives him a slight shake of the head. _Later_ the look says. He nods to the woman that now stands beside him. The woman is absolutely stunning. She has a fierce beauty about her that Constantin has never seen in the women of his own people. He looks between Alexandre and Siora and withholds a gasp. The resemblance is uncanny. Siora bears the same birthmark as Alexandre, save for it is on the opposite cheek. They share the same vibrant, forest green eyes.

Constantin wants deeply to ask him what had happened, but he obeys Alexandre’s request and gives his attention to the woman. “What is this...Who is this amazing person in your company?”

Despite his question being directed to Alexandre, the woman answers for herself. 

“I am Siora, daughter of Bladnid, daughter of Meb. My mother is the mal, the chief of our clan.”

 _Amazing._ thinks Constantin. Not even a full day has passed and he is already meeting a princess of the natives. This is what he is here for. What he does in the next few moments will shape their entire future. 

“I am honored to make your acquaintance, Siora!” Constantin cannot help but look between the two of them again. “This is incredible, you look so much alike you could be related…If you would allow me princess, I would like to confer a mission to my cousin.”

When he looks back at Alexandre, he sees a look of eagerness in his eyes. The both of them are ready to do work. Constantin knows the look won’t last because of what he is about to say. 

“You will first report to Sir de Courcillion each day until you are deemed well enough for travel.” Alexandre’s shoulders fall. What did his cousin think he was going to let him do? Limp to Hikmet?

“Then…” he nods, silently trying to comfort his cousin that the leave is necessary and temporary, “when you are able, you need to visit the Governors of the Bridge and Theleme to give them my formal regards, that sort of thing, but also to discover what they’ve managed to learn..” Alexandre perks up again, curious. Constantin continues, “They’ve been here much longer than we have, perhaps they’ve made some inroads to finding a cure for the Malichor.” 

Siora has been patiently waiting, but now she speaks up before Constantin can say more. As she speaks, she looks towards the floor. “Forgive me, mal, but I have a request for you. My people need your help.” She says the words as if they are a hit to her pride. 

Constantin is torn between intrigue at her request and rushing Alexandre to the doctor. He sees the insistence in her eyes and succumbs to the former. 

“I thought we might discuss matters together at leisure, but please...speak your piece.”

“The Lions...The Bride Alliance and my people are at war, my mother has sent me to you in search of allies. I fear that without your help, our clan will suffer great horrors, we have already lost so many souls.”

He feels for her, but she has just put him in a troubling position. “...This seems a sensible request, you know though that we cannot go to war with our neighbors.” 

Siora looks crestfallen. Oh no, this is not a good start. 

_What to do? Think Constantin, think._

Alexandre chimes in. “Perhaps there is a way to negotiate a ceasefire, the time to see things more clearly?

He looks at Alexandre with fondness. His cousin was already coming to his rescue. 

“Excellent idea, I would be completely lost without you!” Alexandre blushes. _He really is too modest_ thinks Constantin. “After you have healed, go and parley with, uh...the queen, dear cousin. Try and put an end to confrontations for the time being.”

“I will come with you,” says Siora. “It will take more than one person to convince my mother to lay down our weapons.”

Then it’s decided. Their first adventures. Constantin is thrumming with excitement and anxiety. He goes on, “Perfect! Take Kurt along with you and anyone you feel useful. I’ve been told the roads are not safe...I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.” 

His words cause Alexandre to blush again. Constantin doesn’t think too much of it. Maybe Alexandre thought his words were too casual for court. They needed to make a good impression on the lords and ladies of New Serene after all. Eyes and ears would always be on them in this room. But surely the court understands. They are related after all, they can afford some familiarity. 

Constantin turns to Siora. “Your majesty, as my cousin prepares for the journey, we find the most grandiose of rooms for you to rest, a room with a view of the city perhaps. If you wish, tomorrow I can offer you a tour of New Serene?”  
_____________________________________

An hour later Alexandre is sitting up in his bed, a doctor attending to his wounds, specifically to a nasty gash caused by one of the charges from the bulls of the arena. 

Constantin paces the floor in front of them.

“You should have just come to me. I could have ordered the patent to be provided to the man and for the release of his cousin!”

Alexandre winces. The doctor’s goal must be to be efficient rather than gentle. 

“You were busy getting settled. It was of no mind.”

Constantin whips toward him and gestures to his chest. “No mind?! You could have been trampled underfoot by beasts!” Alexandre winces again and Constantin glares.

“Leave us!” He shouts to the doctor, not too kindly. He is still bitter from the fortifying potion incident. The doctor leaves his supplies on the bedside table and vacates the room, leaving Constantin and Alexandre in a staring contest. 

After a moment, Alexandre sighs and looks down. 

“I’m sorry. I suppose I was so caught up in the puzzle of it all that I didn’t think of any other solution.”

With a huff, Constantin moves forward, sitting on the edge of the bed by Alexandre’s legs. Alexandre can feel warmth radiating to him where their legs meet. 

“Lie back.” orders Constantin. Alexandre does so, propping himself at an angle against the headrest of the bed.

Constantin reaches for the cleaning solution the doctor had left on the table. He takes a cotton swab and dips it in the solution, then turns to direct his attention towards the cuts lining Alexandre’s chest. Most are simply from falls, but there are several bruises and two particularly nasty looking cuts on his arm and lower stomach. The former from the slice of a sword and the latter from the bull’s charge. They are not deep enough for stitches, but they need to be cleaned and healing ointment needs to be applied to both the cuts and bruises. 

“Just relax.” Constantin says. His voice is low and soft. “It will sting a little.”

Alexandre hisses as he starts to clean the smaller cuts on his arms and chest. It stings like a bitch and Constantin hasn’t even touched the larger gashes. 

Alexandre watches Constantin as he works. Constantin’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, a slight frown on his lips.

“I’ll be more careful.” Alexandre says, doing his best to make his voice reassuring. 

“You’re damn right you will be,” Constantien angrily whispers. “I’ve ordered Kurt to not let you charge head first into anything that would get you killed. I don’t care how many puppies you’d save.” 

“Not even if they are those Corgis that you love?” He smirks.

“Don’t make this into a joke.”

“You just did.”

Constantin surprises Alexandre when he grabs his chin, forcing him to look at him. Alexandre’s breath catches as Constantin looks at him right in the eye, his gaze serious.

“You are the only one here I trust, dear cousin, my only friend. And I’m about to send you traversing out into the wilderness to stop a war. I...I can’t lose you. I’d be beside myself”

Alexandre just looks at him and focuses on breathing. Suddenly everything seems fragile. He doesn’t want to break this, whatever *this* is. So he simply nods and Constantin returns to cleaning his wounds. 

He gets to the one on his stomach and Alexandre grunts in pain. 

“Shhhhh,” comforts Constantin. “It’s almost done.”

He finishes quickly and returns the cleaning solution and swabs to the table. Then he grabs the bowl of ointment, spreading some of it on his fingers. It smells like mint. 

When he starts to rub some into the bruises and cuts on his arm, Alexandre gasps. Constantin stills. He clears his throat before saying, “Does it hurt? It’s not supposed to?”

Alexandre is blushing. Without his shirt, Constantin can see the pink that spreads down his neck to his upper chest. 

“No,” replies Alexandre. “It’s just cold...and it tingles.”

“Ah...I see. Just bear with it, dear cousin. It’ll be over soon.” 

Constantin continues to rub in the ointment. Taking care to slow down his motions when he gets to the larger gash on his arm. 

His entire arm is tingling. Alexandre bites his lip at the sensation. His eyes slip closed. 

He was fine again until Constantin started applying the ointment to his chest. A small moan slips out and both men still again. Alexandre keeps his eyes firmly closed, but can feel his face blush with embarrassment. What must Constantin think of him for such a noise? He waits for Constantin to yell at him or to feel him jerk away in repulsion. But after a moment, Constantin releases a breath and simply continues to apply ointment to his chest. Alexandre has to bite his lip when he gets close to a nipple. The tingling sensation of the ointment is foreign to him. Constantin’s fingers then flutter briefly against his lower stomach, right above the deep gash. To his mortification Alexandre feels himself getting hard. 

_No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening!_

Suddenly, his dream from the Sea Horse comes rushing back to him and Alexandre has to bite his lip until it hurts to prevent himself from moaning out again. 

_Think of something else! Anything! Dead Corgis!!_

Alexandre has never been hard in front of another person. Neither has he ever been hard with someone else touching him. It doesn’t make matters better that that person is his cousin. Shame coils deep in his gut. Alexandre is thankful for the thick, feathered comforter that separates him from Constantin. What would his cousin think if he knew he was getting hard to his touch? He would find it disgusting, Alexandre’s sure. 

Constantin seems to be unaware of Alexandre’s turmoil. Alexandre doesn’t see it (his eyes are still closed), but Constantin’s forehead is wrinkled in intense concentration and his eyes are focused as he finishes applying the healing ointment to the smaller cuts and bruises on his chest. All that is left is the nasty gash on his stomach.

When Constantin applies the ointment to the area, Alexandre groans. Thankfully, Constantin must assume the groan is because of the pain and he whispers reassuringly, “Shhh, we’re almost done.” 

But to his shame, the combination of Constantin’s gentle ministrations, his voice, and the edge of pain, makes Alexandre only harder. He feels a little precum leak out. Alexandre clenches his fist and fights every instinct to thrust upwards into the friction of the comforter. 

_Dear enlightened one, what is happening to me? Why am I like this?_

The gods must be listening because Constantin quickly finishes applying the ointment. Yet, Alexandre continues to clench his fist and eyes even after he hears Constantin return the ointment to the side table. 

When Constantin turns, he sees his cousin more tense than he has ever seen him. His eyes are even clenched shut in pain. The ointment wasn’t supposed to hurt, but maybe it was different for his cousin. At times, he reacted differently to certain oils and medications. He had different allergies than the rest of the family. 

“Alex?” he asks, concerned. If Alexandre is allergic he needs to know now. “Are you alright?”

“I…” To his embarrassment, his voice cracks. Alexandre clears his throat. “Ahem, yes, Constantin. I’m alright. Just tired now.” 

“You are reacting more strongly to the potion than expected. Perhaps I should get the doctor?”

“No!” Alexandre’s eyes snap open. One of Constantin’s eyebrows raises up. “I mean, no thank you cousin. It does hurt a little, but it's not unbearable. It’ll fade soon I’m sure, or I will call for the doctor myself. I just need rest I think.”

A flush still marks Alexandre’s cheeks, even deeper than before. 

Constantin looks at him for a moment. “Alright,” he says. “As soon as you wake tomorrow, you should apply some more. If you need help…”

“I’ll be fine.” Alexandre quickly reassures. He needs Constantin to leave...now. 

“...ok.” Constantin is still giving him a strange look. “I’ll leave you.” He moves his hand as if he is going to offer a gentle squeeze to his shoulder, but pauses midway and then awkwardly returns his hand. 

He gets up and makes it to the door. He opens it and then turns back to Alexandre giving him one more questioning look. “Sleep well, cousin.” 

“And you as well.” Alexandre replies, giving Constantin a stiff smile.

Constantin nods and makes his leave. He closes the door quietly behind him.

“Fuck…” Alexandre whispers into the empty room.   
___________________________________________

On the other side of the door, Constantin is gently leaning with his forehead pressed against the door. 

“Fuck…” he whispers.


	7. The Inquisition

Alexandre thought he knew what monsters looked like. Now, he’s not so sure. 

The scene that awaited the company upon their arrival to San Matheus was nothing short of a nightmare.

He can’t get the creature’s cries out of his head. 

_RENOUNCE YOUR GODS!_ The wrath in the inquisitor’s voice rings in his ears.

He had wanted to leave, to turn back to New Serene, to run the inquisitor through with his blade. But then what hope would they have against the malichor?

Alexandre could do absolutely nothing. 

So he watched, horrified yet completely silent, as the Ordo Luminus burned the magnificent creature alive. Watched as the inquisitor strangled the native man with his bare hands. Watched citizens of the city walk by as if these things were nothing.

He was frozen, staring in awe at the burning creature, when he caught the eye of the madman himself. 

_You bring demon spawned barbarians through our gates!_

Poor Siora. _This man just killed some helpless soul in front of our eyes and he calls us barbarians?_ Alexandre remembers the look in her eyes when he had no choice but to speak peacefully with the man. She thinks they are monsters. Maybe she’s right. 

He had fought back the only way he knew how. With words.

_Diplomacy may seem to you of little import, but I doubt that your governor will be of similar opinion. Aggression towards an emissary of another nation is an error that could lead to war._

_Be aware that where so ever you wander, you shall be weighed, measured, and judged!_

He wonders what type of god would find joy in meaningless suffering and death. Did the Enlightened One truly hate the man and beast now lying cold on the street square? No. Alexandre had been raised in the faith. His mother was a true believer. This man could not possibly serve the same light that she did. 

Weighed, measured, and judged? _The same could be said of you._ Alexandre had thought. 

With his final warning, the man had left them. The company, all of them visibly shaken, still had a job to do. 

The governor’s mansion lied before them at the highest point of the city, atop a grand staircase. The most striking part of the structure was the dome that reached up towards the heavens with an emblem of the Enlightened One at its center. It was strategically placed to reflect light onto those ascending the stairs towards the mansion. Behind them, Alexandre still felt the heat from the pyre. Heaven to hell. How poetic of them. 

They had met Bishop Petrus. The father’s familiarity had been a balm to Alexandre’s nerves, giving him the strength to carry out Constantin’s words to the Cardinal Mother. The ambassador from Theleme now occupied the room down the hall. He would accompany them back to New Serene. He was glad to have such a kind man of faith with them. He was a rock in contrast to the madness of the inquisitor. Though he wonders how the father and Siora would fare the journey together. They were to leave in the morning. 

Three hours or so later, Alexandre sits on the edge of his bed, in the housing provided for him in San Matheus, staring at the wall. The afternoon still feels unreal. As Alexandre finishes going over the day’s events in his head, he dwells on what he should reveal to Constantin of the journey. 

_Oh, Constantin, I thought I was ready for this, but I’m not._ He puts his face in his hands. A headache is brewing. He should sleep for tomorrow. They are leaving very early so as to make it back to New Serene within the day. But his mind is racing miles a minute. 

A knock at the door pulls him out of his stupor. 

“Come in.”

The door opens to reveal his late master of arms. 

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, of course not.” Alexandre motions to the two chairs at the front of the room. “Please.”

Captain Kurt collapses down into one of the chairs with a sigh. 

“What a shit show, eh, Green Blood?” 

“...Yeah. You could say that.”   
“You handled yourself well.”

Alexandre scoffs. 

“I was a coward.”

“Coward? Not by mine eyes. You were a man of honor. You could have ran the blighter through, but you took the high road.”

...

“I just don’t get it, Kurt. My mother taught me that the Enlightened One is full of love. How could these men that follow him bear others so much hate? Is that really what the God of Light wants?”

“...I don’t have all the answers, my lord. I’m not exactly a religious man. But I wouldn’t say so, no. The Inquisition will starve itself of members acting like that. If there is a God of Light, I’d say he’s royally mad at them for screwing up his reputation with the islanders. My lady guardian once said, ‘Kurt, you’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, but put some shit out and you’ll have a plague.’”

“Kurt....That makes absolutely no sense.”

“...Yeah, she may have been drunk when she said it….”

The two men laugh and then settle into comfortable silence for a beat.

“You’ve never spoken to me about your mother.”

Kurt pauses at that, weighing his next words carefully. 

“I still haven’t. Never knew her. Lady guardian was a prostitute…” Kurt pauses, clearly uncomfortable. “It wouldn’t have been appropriate to share, anyways. You were my student.”

“I may be forward in saying this. But I always thought of you as an older brother than a teacher.”

“...that’s...very kind of you, my lord.”

“It’s Alexandre, Kurt. Things are changing. I’m no longer your pupil. We’re strangers in this land. Surely, we can become friends.”

Kurt looks down at his boots for a moment. When he looks back up, a small smile graces his lips.

“Aye. I’d like that. Alexandre”

________________________________  
In the morning, the company takes one last trip to the city square to restock supplies for the journey. During the night, the fires have died down at the Place of Punishment. Among the ashes the body of the creature remains for all to see, a reminder of the God of Light’s terrifying power. Its body is hardened and hunched over on its knees. It looks like it's praying.


	8. The Bath

Constantin had a slight obsession with baths. They were a luxury that few could afford, a luxury he took full advantage of, especially when stressed. 

And what could generate more stress than an identity crisis stemming from you getting hard to the moans of your cousin?

Constantin lies back against the tub. The water is practically boiling, but he likes it that way. 

_Don’t freak out, Constantin. It’s just been a while, that's all. A completely normal reaction to someone moaning. It...didn’t...mean...anything._

But the more he attempts to rationalize, the more he thinks of that evening. The little gasps Alexandre had made. The deep moan he released when he had applied the ointment to the gash on his stomach. The pretty pink color his skin turned underneath his fingers. Constantin feels himself harden. 

“Fuck!” he yells out to the empty room, banging his head against the side of the tub. 

_That’s it! You need to go out and find a lovely girl for the night. When was the last time? In Serene before I left? Ah, that’s right, at the tavern. What was her name? Fiona? Lovely girl. And we were so rudely interrupted._

He thinks of the girl from the tavern the night before the voyage to the islands. He focuses on her beautiful lips. The curved body and dark hair. Her perfect voice--she had laughed so prettily to his jokes. And those forest green eyes. He could sink into them. He feels himself harden even more. 

_Better, that’s better. See? You’re not a freak._

Constantin reaches below the water to take hold of himself. He focuses on the girl. She had smelled so good...Like pumpkin pastry and rum with a touch of spice. Constantin imagines burying his nose into her hair. He imagines her taking his hand to lead him up the stairs of the tavern/inn to an empty room. He lays her down gently on the bed and caresses her curves, biting her neck until she gasps for more. 

Constantin starts to bring his hand up and down, pleasuring himself to the daydream. He closes his eyes to get a better visual. 

It doesn’t take long for the dream to pick up and he is pounding into the girl. The room fills with the sound of splashing as his hand disturbs the water. 

But then the girl’s face starts to morph. The green eyes darken slightly and the curves harden into well defined muscles. Her voice deepens. And his mind’s eye looks down to find Alexandre looking up at him, his face slack with pleasure. 

This was wrong, oh so very wrong. 

But the image that Constantin’s depraved mind conjures up next seals the loss of his soul. 

_Please don’t stop!_ dream Alexandre pants. _Make me yours, please._

_Dear, sweet enlightened one!_

It only takes a couple pumps of his hand before he comes. Constantin barely has time to slap his left hand over his mouth to stifle a shout. The force of his orgasm racks through him and tremors down to even his toes. Water spills over the edge of the tub. 

And then it was over. His heart hammers slowly. Dazed, he leans back against the tub to catch his breath. 

He would feel shame, but his mind and bones feel like mush. He’ll deal with it in the morning.


	9. Reunited

Constantin wakes with a pounding headache. 

_A hangover? Certainly not!_

With a groan, Constantin rolls onto his stomach and burrows his head into his pillow. He takes a moment to NOT think about anything other than the warm cocoon of his bed. With a sigh, he starts to sit up. The motion sends a stab of pain to the back of his head and Constantin falls back to his pillow again with clenched eyes. 

This doesn’t feel like a hangover. A migraine maybe?

He’s never had migraines before, but his father complained of them frequently. Is this what leadership felt like? It wouldn’t surprise him. The previous day had been a fucking nightmare. He had hosted a small party from Theleme for the better part of the day - the Lords de Bueton and de Gontaut, accompanied by their respective families. The company was insufferable. Constantin swears they ended every sentence with, “in His enlightened name.” 

The night would have been slightly tolerable if Constantin had had his way with playing cards, but who knew his company were the traditionalists sort? They had acted as if he had suggested running through New Serene naked. 

_My lord!_ Madame de Gontaut had gasped, _Surely you jest, such demon games are beneath you!_ What on earth did these lot do to have fun?

Then they even sang to him...bloody sang.

 _Note to self. Come up with secret signals to the guards to come up with some sort of emergency to get yourself out of such messes._ He paid them enough to come up with little lies on occasion, surely.

Being a governor was not entirely what he expected. He had goals for New Serene, and yes, some of them were coming to fruition, but his progress was slow. It’d be faster if he wasn’t constantly bombarded with idiocies that had little importance. Just last week he had to settle an argument between two men because a piece of fruit from a tree on one man’s property had fallen into that of the other man’s property, for Enlightened sakes! Thank heavens for Lady Morange. On that particular occasion, a look from the lady had saved Constantin from laughing in the farmers’ faces. The woman’s presence was just the scaffold he needed for such unexpected trivialities. When they weren’t visited by foreign dignitaries, the governor and ex-governor would have dinner together. In this time, Constantin learned that, although they were very different in humor and personality, they had much in common when it came to the future of New Serene. And neither of them wanted to be stepping stones to Theleme or the Bridge Alliance. The Lady Morange was simply more...tactful in her approach with the neighboring nations. Constantin had much to learn still.

But even Lady Morange couldn’t free him from the likes of noblemen from Theleme and the Bridge Alliance. In fact, she typically excused herself shortly after dinner with such visitors. Convenient. Sink or swim, Constantin. Sink or swim.

A knock to Constantin’s door sends a ringing jolt of pain through his head. Speaking of sinking...

“Constantin, are you awake, my lord?” 

It’s Mr de Courcillon. It must be later in the day than he thought. 

“I was just on my way, Mr de Courcillon. Fear not, we will tackle the problem of Lady Bouc’s goat problem shortly. A whole ton of shit the complaint said?”

His door opens. Loss of privacy. Another perk of governorship. 

He can sense the frown of disapproval as de Courcillon finds that Constantin, in fact, is not on his way, or even out of bed for that matter. 

De Courcillon makes his way across the room to the windows, opening the curtains to let the light shine it. 

_Next job as governor. Turn down the bloody sun._ Constantin scrunches his eyes closed even tighter. Even with them closed, the light is too bright. 

“My lord, I must insist that you get moving. De Sardet is waiting for you down in the hall.”

Constantin sits up quickly in his bed, he manages to only wince at the pain behind his eyes at the motion.

“Alexandre? He’s back?”

“Yes, my lord. He arrived in the early parts of the morning. He wanted to make his report before respite.”

“Then I will not make him wait. Go below and tell my cousin that I will be there shortly, I mean it, truly.”

With a crisp bow, Mr de Courcillon leaves him to dress. 

With another groan, Constantin gets out of bed and walks to his bathroom. He fills the sink bowl with water from a nearby pitcher and washes his face. The cool water helps his headache well enough. He moves into his closet. 

He had planned to wear the green waistcoat today, but maybe he should wear the blue with red and gold accents?

_Fuck._

How was he going to look Alexandre in the eye after that daydream? 

Constantin did not have much down time in the weeks that followed that bath, but with seldom moments, the night returned to him. Shame would coil tight in his gut, but to his horror, there were still tendrils of arousal that came with the memory too.

Constantin was far from a chaste man, but Alexandre was...pure...for lack of a better word. Apparently, even more pure than Constantin had thought before their trip to Teer Fradee. Constantin had come to the conclusion that Alexandre was such a gentleman that he was saving himself for marriage and his one true love. He deserved better than being thought of in such a filthy way! It felt like he was stealing something precious. And so Constantin found himself in a vicious cycle of shame, arousal, and regret that was far easier to push away with either paperwork or wine than it was to sit down and digest. Even now, he pushes the thoughts away with a meaningless decision. 

Green or blue? Green or blue? Green or blue?

He grabs the blue waistcoat. 

And it definitely wasn’t because Alexandre once commented that it made his eyes brighter.   
________________________________________

“Cousin! You have returned to me! Your absence was sorely felt!”

When Alexandre enters the meeting hall, all of Constantin’s nerves vanish and his heart warms. A small company trails behind his cousin. Were there more of them? Alexandre seemed to be picking up friends these days wherever he went. 

At the sight of them, Constantin sits up straight. The motion makes his head pound. And the bloody windows are letting in so much light! But he has no doubts that Alexandre would have moved mountains on his journey and he wants to prove that he had done the same. He was capable of making his father and Alexandre proud. A little headache was nothing. 

_Have you seen the changes to the city, Alexandre? Have you seen how beautiful it looks?_

“You don’t appear to be in top form, are house intrigues keeping you from finding proper sleep?” are the first words out of Alexandre’s mouth. 

_Ah._

And he thought he was hiding it so well. Leave it to Alexandre to see what others didn’t...or to have the guts to speak up about what they did. 

“No, nothing to bring me nightmares as of yet…

A flash of green eyes. Stubble rubbing against his chin. Burning heat. Pleading eyes. A voice whimpering by his ears _ahh! Constantin!_

Constantin whips up straight at the memory. _Not now, damn it!_ He looks to the side to compose himself.

“I’m...blaming it on the change of diet.” 

He clears his throat before returning his attention to Alexandre. “Now tell me what adventures you have been up to, if you only knew how bored I grow behind these walls!

_Not so bored in the bath though were you?_

_Shut up, you! Nothing but a trick of wine. Must be stronger here._ Another stab of pain to the back of his head brings Constantin out of his musings. Shit, Alexandre’s talking.

“I would like, if you would allow me the honor, to introduce Bishop Petrus, emissary of Theleme.”

At the mention of Theleme, Alexandre looks at the ground. It’s barely there, but even with his pounding head, Constantin notices. His cousin is uncomfortable. Siora, the island princess, looks to him as well with a knowing frown. What had happened? What was he missing?

“...warm you in its holy embrace!” The man introduced as Bishop Petrus proclaims. He had barely heard the man, but he could deduce what was said. All of these interactions went the same anyways. 

“Enchanted to meet you, my father,” Constantin nods. 

“I’ve come here to present respects from Theleme, and the best wishes from the Mother Cardinal.”

“She has my most sincere thanks!” Constantin says. He’s said the same phrase, or like it, what must be countless times before. They are anything but sincere anymore. But he’s gotten good at faking it. Especially when he has other matters to attend to. Speaking of...

“But before speaking further, I would like to discuss matters with my cousin, if you would be so kind.” Constantin gives a slight smile to the father, as to not cause offense, and turns back to his cousin.

What had happened to make Alexandre so disgruntled? He must know. 

“I’ve been to the neighboring city of San Matheus as you asked of me,” Alexandre says. 

“Tell me then. Was your journey adventurous?”

Alexandre winces. 

_No. What happened!? I’ll fix it, cousin, just say the word._

“Well, I was able to gain an audience with the Mother Cardinal, give her your regards, and glean some information.” Alexandre says. 

“I would not have allowed anything bad to happen to him, your Highness” Kurt interrupts. Constantin looks at Kurt for the first time since the company had entered the meeting hall. Kurt stands with his arms crossed. He is looking at Constantin with a peculiar and serious look. Constantin’s anger at his cousin’s unease must have been visible. _0 for 0, Constantin. You must practice hiding your thoughts in the mirror again, like Lady Morange suggested._ He relaxes his grip and turns to his childhood guard. He must convince him everything is fine. He’s the governor. He is in control. 

“Oh, it’s just us here, Kurt. Why not continue to call me by my given name?” Constantin distracts with a smile. Kurt gives him a slight nod. He may or may not be convinced. The master of arms was hard to read when he was on the job. Seemed to go hand in hand with the whole...you know...being able to kill without batting an eye thing. Him and Alexandre both, so serious! He forces himself to visibly relax. It is nothing. Nothing’s happened. His cousin is here in one piece after all. Kurt’s right, he was in good hands. 

“Carry on with your story, cousin. I’m impatient to know what secrets our illustrious neighbors have discovered!”

“The Mother Cardinal, in her opinion, believes the Malichor to be the result of a curse…”

Petrus cuts in, “A curse cast by a demon, an evil creature worshipped by a ‘cult’ of island natives. If you would allow me to second the request of our Mother Cardinal: we are in dire need of your help. Our inquisitors are hardly diplomats and…” 

Alexandre winces again and this time they all notice, but it is mistaken for offense at the father’s interruption. Constantin knows better, but this time makes sure to keep his face relaxed. The inquisitors? “But I should let you finish, my son…” the father says. 

Alexandre picks the tale back up. “They have started their investigations in a village where strange events have been taking place. But they are unable to get to the bottom of it...the population keeps its secrets. And Theleme hopes that we might help them learn more about the cult”

Cults, inquisitors, and natives, oh my. The two cousins certainly had their work cut out for them. If the tale were true, the natives would not appreciate an onslaught to their god, if they could even kill it. And if it were false, well, Constantin had learned well that the Order of Light turned a blind eye to truth when it didn’t fit their fancy. It would take more than the words of the natives to prove that this demon did not exist. A difficult position. 

“This is all extremely interesting. You have lived up to my expectations, as always! That said, we find ourselves between a rock and a hard place. _Funny choice of words, Constantin._ Relationships between Theleme and the islanders are already strained...the Inquisitors,” he huffs “We’re going to have to tread on eggshells, but let’s follow all the clues to their mysteries. We need to help them continue their investigations, perhaps one will lead us to something useful. I don’t have a lot of men, as you well know, and since I only trust you among them, I must send you out again.” His face softens. 

It is too soon. Much too soon. 

“If you would allow me, your Highness, I would be honored to assist your cousin on his investigation.” 

Constantin hesitates at that. He remembers Bishop Petrus from his visits to court in the days of his youth. He was a good man. But he can’t ignore the unease of his cousin at the man’s introduction. He must be wary. With civility, yet a measure of slite, he responds to the Father, “Very well then. You could start by indicating the precise location of your nasty village.” 

_________________________

“Well, this is a rare sight. Constantin? Doing homework?”

Around two hours after the briefing, Alexandre found Constantin in his office. In that time, he had returned home to change out of his travel gear and taken an hour long nap. He woke up to a silent house, his companions would most likely sleep for the better part of the day, the journey had been physically and mentally exhausting. But once he was awake, he knew that he would not be able to return to sleep. So he found himself changing into his favorite embroidered doublet and sneaking out the door. It wasn’t long before he had found Constantin working in his office. 

Alexandre had entered the office quietly and had taken a moment to watch his cousin before interrupting. This was a rare sight! He never thought he’d see the day that Constantin would have the patience to sit for hours in a chair doing paperwork. The man had never been one for study. He preferred action and working directly with people. But paperwork was a necessary evil of governorship. It seemed his cousin was taking it on well. He watched as Constantin occasionally furrowed his brow or brought the quill up to his mouth in thought as he read. He smiled when at one paper, Constantin let out a loud scoff. Maybe some things would never change. 

It is this moment that Constantin decides to interrupt. 

“Well, this is a rare sight. Constantin? Doing homework?”

“Cousin! How long have you been standing there? Never mind that, didn’t you get back at an ungodly hour? You should be resting.” Constantin looks at him with worry. When he looks up, Alexandre sees the shadows under his eyes. He said he was fine earlier, but he must not be sleeping. 

“Fear not, Constantin, I have rested enough. It seems more than you at least.”

“Really? Because you look like you just fought that bull again”

“And you look like half of those papers are marriage proposals from Lady Verona.”

“Agree to disagree then….and only one fourth of them concern marriage, some of them are quite flattering actually.”

Alexandre huffs with a small smile. He missed this on his excursion, the little bantering. 

Alexandre sits down in a chair in front of Constantin’s desk. Both cousins lean forward. Alexandre asks, “Are you liking your new role as governor? How does it feel?”

Constantin sighs. “Honestly? Once the thrill of the first few days was over...it’s boring.”

Constantin puffs out a breath of air as he hits his head backwards against his chair, looking up towards the ceiling as he says…

“I receive delegations from everywhere, they arrive with their arms full of presents to make me sign some agreements.” He glares upwards, “Most of them take me for a fool who will easily be convinced by some silver trinket. I would love to simply brush them all off and work on some real projects! I have so many ideas to make this city, this island, truly amazing!”

 _I wish your father could see how far you’ve come._ Alexandre thinks. He knows he would be proud. The thought brings another question to mind. 

“Any news of your parents?”

“No, with the time it takes to travel to the continent, it’s not surprising, but I don’t miss them! My father’s next letter will certainly be full of his usual disdain...As for my mother, you know her! She’s probably too busy planning her next assassination to have noticed my absence.” 

_That’s not true. I wish you could see that’s not true._

But Alexandre knows that bringing up his uncle and aunt’s true feelings will be a losing battle. And so the two sit for a moment in an uncomfortable silence. Alexandre leans back again at a thought. 

“You were quite rude to the Father earlier.”

“Was I? When was that? I must have missed it.”

“Don’t be flippant. Earlier, when he was telling you about the cult.”

“You were uncomfortable.”

Alexandre blushes. Was it that obvious? 

“Did the Father do something to you?”

“No, of course not! He’s a good man. You know that, we knew him as childr…”

“The inquisition then?”

Alexandre jerks at the word and looks up to see Constantin regarding him with intense eyes. 

In that moment, his heart starts to speed up. He feels the fire from that day. The gasping of a dying man and the screaming of a beast. _GIVE UP YOUR GODS!_ He can’t breathe!

He feels a hand lift his chin up. Constantin now sits in the chair beside him. When did he move? He looks at Alexandre with fearful concern. 

“Breath, Alexandre!” Constantin moves his hand to gently cradle his neck. “Breathe,” he repeats, more calmly. 

Alexandre focuses on breathing. In and out. In and out. 

“That’s it.” Constantin gently says. His voice is low. Alexandre focuses on it. “Tell me what happened.” Constantin coaxes. 

Alexandre had no intention of placing this burden on his cousin. Based on the pile of paperwork on the desk, he was correct in assuming his cousin had enough to deal with. But it was no use hiding it now. 

He takes a deep breath and exhales. He begins, “When we arrived at San Matheus, we had a slight altercation with the Inquisition.”

“You fought them?”

“No, no.” Alexandre looks down at his feet, clasping his hands in front of him. He can’t look at Constantin if he is going to get this out. “Nothing like that....we came across a leader of the inquisition ‘punishing’ one of their...gods. He then turned on a native man and killed him in a fit of rage.”

“...dear gods, you’re serious?”

Alexandre gives a false laugh of disdain. “They even have a Place of Punishment right in the middle of the city. They burned the beast there and left the creature to rot. Probably still haven’t moved it….And everyone just walked by it like it was a normal day of shopping. ‘Get your fruit here! Finest fruit in all of Teer Fradee!’ They didn’t even look at the thing!”

“Alexandre...that’s awful, no wonder…”

“Siora thinks we’re monsters...” 

Alexandre goes silent and keeps his eyes on his boots. The rage that suddenly fills him silences him. It makes it hard to think of what to say next. Constantin also doesn’t speak for a long moment. He is measuring his words carefully. 

“Some men are...”

“I didn’t do anything to stop it.” 

“That doesn’t make you a monster.”  
“The hell it doesn’t! Men that don’t do anything to stop monsters must be worse than one. But I froze. If only I had time to think of a way to..”

“What else could you have done? Start a war right then and there will all of Theleme?”

Alexandre scoffs at that and puts his head between his hands. 

“Plus, I never would have forgiven you if you hadn’t come back to me.”

At that Alexandre turns his head in his hands and finally looks at Constantin. His cousin is looking back at him with a frown on his face. The pain in his eyes is evident. Alexandre feels a stab of guilt. He is meant to protect Constantin, not make him worry. But this world has brought on things that he hadn’t expected. So much violence in such a short time. They were used to death. The malichor had brought so much of it. But the pain they were used to was from fate, not men. Despite their lessons, they had been kept safe from the reality of war. 

“What have we gotten ourselves into, Constantin?”

Constantin pauses for a moment, deep in thought and then says, “Life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood.”

Alexandre looks at him in awe and laughs under his breath. “Where did you get that from?”

“Can’t take credit. I’ve been so bored that I’ve actually read some of those books you’re always droning on about.”

And just like that the air feels lighter again. Gods, he’s missed him. 

Constantin’s smile turns serious again after a beat. “I doubt this will be the last of the awful things we see from our neighbors, cousin. But if anyone can rise above them, it is you. New Serene has no better.”

“They have you.” Alexandre nudges. The smile returns. His cousin has grown so much in such a short amount of time. 

“Stop. You’re making me blush. Now. Beyond a mess of an introduction to San Matheus, you must tell me of your journey. Did you see any of those amazing creatures that we’ve been told about? Did you meet any more natives? Do the trees really grow 80 meters tall?!”

Now here is the Constantin that Alexandre is familiar with. The excitable boy, thirsting for adventure.   
______________________________________________

“And then, the giant beaver chased Kurt right into the river!”   
It is nearly midnight and the two cousins are still in Constantin’s office. They have moved to the side of the office by a window and sit against the wall on the floor. Empty bottles of wine and two glasses lie between them. The pair are clearly drunk and laughing hysterically. Constantin holds his side as he struggles to breathe from it. 

In between fits of laughter, he manages, “And the part where he lost his trousers! Oh...I am so going to use that later!”

“You didn’t hear it from me.”

“Oh. I definitely heard it from you, dear cousin. You think I’ll go down alone?”

“I’ll deny it.” 

“You would lie! Shocked, Alex, I am simply astonished!”

The two cousins chuckle some more until they settle into a comfortable silence. 

Alexandre leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. The lack of sleep is starting to catch up to him, but he doesn’t want to go to sleep. The sooner he sleeps, the sooner he has to leave. They had decided that they would leave that very next day. No rest for the wicked so they say. Or at least no rest for malichor casting cults. But for now, they let tomorrow’s worries wait.

Constantin takes the time to watch his cousin. He watches his chest move up and down. His eyes moving upward, pausing for a moment on the skin of his neck, before moving up to his lips, watching Alexandre release slow and steady breaths. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep or maybe it's the bottle of wine, either way, he doesn’t think before he is asking the question that has been on his mind now for months. 

“Alexandre?”

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”

Alexandre freezes for a moment and then turns his head to look at his cousin. His brows furrow.

“I...um...I didn’t think it was that important,” he says. A blush starts to form on Alexandre’s face. “Are you bothered by it?”

 _Shit, Constantin. What the hell did you just do?_

“Oh, dear. Alexandre, I apologize. That came out terribly rude. I didn’t mean to insult you. There is nothing wrong at all.”

 _You’re talking way too fast, Constantin. He thinks you’re making fun of him._

He flounders on, trying to save himself, but now that the question is out there, he simply has to know. “It’s perfectly acceptable. I know many lords and ladies that are saving themselves. I just didn’t know if it was a personal choice or…” He trails off. 

Alexandre manges to blush even further. Constantin can’t help but think it makes his green eyes stand out. 

_Stop._

“I wouldn’t call it a choice really...I just...I haven’t really met anyone special, you know?”

“Well, I must say, Alexandre, you haven’t exactly put yourself out there to look. You’ll work your life away if you don’t watch it.”

“I think my life is fine, thank you.” he pouts, he’s actually pouting. He didn’t know he could do that. Adorable. 

“It would be much finer with an orgasm here and there I assure you. At least tell me that you’ve masturbated from time to time to get rid of some of that stress?” 

_What the hell are you saying! Too far Constantin!_

Constantin didn’t think it was possible for Alexandre’s face to get any redder. He was wrong. And at the sweet blush that starts to spread down his neck, Constantin can’t help himself. The boat has sailed. In the back of his mind, Constantin hears Vasco scoff “It’s a ship”. He starts to breathe a little more heavily and his conscious, which somehow sounds a lot like Mr de Courcillon is screaming at him, yet he finds words coming out of his mouth without abandon. He’d be horrified if he didn’t have the excuse that he was simply looking out for the well being of his cousin...I suppose several glasses of wine will do the trick too. 

“You’ve never even touched yourself, have you?”

Constantin reaches forward and runs his fingers through Alexandre’s hair. Alexandre’s eyes widen at the question, but as Constantin’s fingers move through his hair, they close and he leans into the touch. He’s a bloody unicorn, his Alex. 

“I could teach you, if you like.” At that, Constantin, pulls slightly at Alexandre’s hair and his cousin gasps, his eyes snap open and he looks at Constantin. 

“...Constantin?” he gasps out.

Just like in his daydream, Constantin thinks. His eyes darken. 

“Hmm?” he says. He continues to run his fingers through Alexandre’s hair. 

“The wine. I...think I’ve had a little too much. I....”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you know. You can come to me for anything, Alex.”

“It’s...isn’t it wrong?”

“Why would it be wrong?” 

“I...I don’t know...I just thought…shit...can you just stop for a moment?”

“Stop what?”

“You’re fucking hand, Constantin!” he grits his teeth. The words are strained. 

Constantin’s hand stills. He looks at it like it's a foreign object. Since when did he start running his fingers through Alexandre’s hair? He removes his hand. 

The two cousins stare at each other. Alexandre is looking at him with a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and something else that makes Constantin’s heart race. 

After a beat, Constantin licks his lips. Alexandre’s eyes follow the motion. Constantin notices and his pupils dilate even further. When he speaks, his voice is lower than normal, deeper, 

“Maybe we can find a book that…”

At his voice, Alexandre jolts away. “I’m sorry Constantin. I should probably go. Thank you for your company.” Just like that, Alexandre stumbles up. Before Constantin can get another word out, he is halfway to the door. “I wish you a good night's rest, cousin. I will see you tomorrow, yes? Yes. Great. Good. Good night.”

Constantin blinks hard as the door slams behind Alexandre. His cousin acted so strangely at times. That’s the last thought he has before he finds himself on the floor, passing out into a deep sleep.  
________________________________________________________

Constantin found Alexandre around noon talking to Mr. de Courcillon in the entryway of the mansion. He greeted de Courcillon politely and asked to talk with Alexandre about the upcoming mission. They were to leave within the hour. As he talks with de Courcillon, Alexandre is strangely quiet. He rubs his hand behind his neck. When de Courcillon wishes them both a good day, Constantin leads him outside. They could use the air. As soon as they reach the bottom of the steps, Constantin speaks. He stumbles over the words, despite having practiced them in the mirror for the better part of the morning. 

“If I behaved improperly last night Alexandre, I apologize...I was drunk and I may have...I know I said some things that were rude and inconsiderate of you...I wish the best for you. I hope you know that.”

“Of course, Constantin. You did nothing wrong. You may have been a little...well, we were both a touch out of it weren’t we?” Alexandre lets out an awkward laugh. 

…

“You are ready to leave then, I suppose.”

“Yes...we’re just waiting on the carriage to take us a ways. We will walk the rest.”

“You” *ahem* “have everything you need? Enough ammunition? Just in case?”

“Yes.”

Another awkward pause rests between them. And then...

“Maybe don’t let Kurt near any of those beaver creatures.”

At that Alexandre lets out a deep laugh. The tension is gone. All is forgiven.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”


	10. A Fast Learner

The situation in Vedieug was odd. Most of the villagers refused to talk to de Sardet. Many of them stared out into the middle of nowhere, some told him to leave them alone, one particularly lovely old woman spit at him. He didn’t feel the “heavy veil of evil” that Sister Ephesia suggested, but it was...disconcerting, to say the least. 

The mal of the clan, Derdre had barely let him get out two questions before shutting him down and the doneigad, the wise man, answered only in riddles. “Questions have no value when one already claims to know the answers,” he had said. Wise words, and he got where they were coming from, but they also didn’t get Alexandre anywhere. The man wouldn’t even give him the chance to convince him that their motivations were different from the inquisition’s. 

Finally he found a villager that would speak with him. He had made eye contact with the woman and instead of turning away, she had quirked up an eyebrow. She was curious. He could use that. After playing a game, if it could be called that, they had finally made some progress. Alexandre left the conversation with a little discomfort. The woman had looked at him as if she knew him. The natives wherever he went would always comment on his birthmark. “On ol menawi,” they called him. But this woman in particular mentioned something about a binding. Binding to what? 

Next, they ran into another man that didn’t ignore them, albeit, he was a little more aggravated than the woman had been, nervous even. The gatherer shared further on their beliefs. Although the beliefs were strange to him (the idea of worshipping the earth itself was a strange one), Alexandre didn’t see any evidence of curses or evil demons. “No such things as dark spirits,” the man chastised them as if they were children. He was deflecting. Alexandre had a newfound appreciation for Bishop Petrus. He could almost see the gears ticking in the man’s head, but he had the wisdom to hold his tongue. 

They all sensed it. There was something off about the conversation with the gatherer. With help from the “I ask you, you ask me” girl, Alexandre managed to sneak into the man’s hut. Within the hut, they found a mask for rituals of some sort, a morbid altar, and a painting of a bloody massacre offered as a gift to a grimacing face. The man was nervous, yes, but the presence of these items surprised him somewhat. The man didn’t seem the type to offer up blood sacrifices. 

There was only one way to find out. They waited until nightfall and followed the man. 

As they followed him, Petrus’ snapped a twig underfoot. His army was too heavy for stealth. The man instantly attacked. Running towards them in anger he shouted, “Why? Why must the renaigse invade us, change us...kill us?” 

_Who’s trying to kill who?!_ Alexandre had thought as he clashed swords with the man. The warrior mask in the hut now made since. The man fought with much more skill than a simple gatherer. The man managed to hold off Kurt, Bishop Petrus, and himself for a time. With one particular vicious kick, he knocked Petrus down. “Our sanctuaries are not for you…” he shouted, “You shall never enter the cave of the lightning struck tree!” He raised his axe above his head to strike Petrus with a deadly blow, but he also left his side open. Kurt thrusts forward, running his sword through the man, right below the arm and into his heart. He immediately went down. After that, it didn’t take long. Before he died he coughed up blood. “Our sanctuaries...are not for you,” he repeated. His last words.   
_________________________________________________

A couple hours later, they find the lightning struck tree. He has never seen the likes of it. Its roots dig down deep into, not soil, but rock. 

When Alexandre gets closer, he feels the air grow heavy. It makes him uneasy, but he moves forward still. He reaches out his hand to touch an exposed root of the tree. 

And suddenly there was this intense heat. A ring of fire surrounds them. When he turns back to the tree, it too is on fire. A deep, inhuman groaning comes from the tree. The noise was deafening. Alexandre reaches up to cradle his own head, squeezing it. It feels like it's splitting apart. HE is splitting apart. The pain is unlike anything he has ever experienced. He feels like he is on fire. Between stabs, he sees flashes. He sees himself standing before him, smaller than he should be. _Pain._ He sees branches growing from his body. _Pain_. A storm beats against them. _Pain_. Lightning strikes through him. _Please make it stop_. The fire spreads and his leaves fall away, _I’m dying_. 

Then rain comes. And Alexandre has never felt anything so soothing. He wants to cry, but he can’t. He isn’t able to shed tears. He feels life begin again within him. _Green._ He wakes up. 

“My child!” is the first thing Alexandre hears when he comes to. Father Petrus is talking to him. His hand is on his shoulder and eyes are filled with concern. Alexandre looks around, the fire is gone. His legs feel weak. He doesn’t know how he is still standing. 

“You are very pale,” the Father comments, “as if you just saw something terrible!”

“I did. I...for a moment...I was this tree.” Alexandre says with confusion.

“This is truly some strange sorcery! What exactly did you see? Perhaps it is some sort of key?”

Alexandre painfully recounts the vision. “I have never experienced anything like it before.” He finishes. He looks between Kurt and Petrus, the look on their faces, they don’t know what to think. Alexandre reaches up to rub his head, a slight tingling of pain remains.

“Look!” exclaims Kurt. Alexandre looks up to see him by a stone of some sort. At its peak, a rounded area is carved out and a candle sits within it. At its base, black paint of some sort has been added in the form of flames. Alexandre looks around. More stones surround the tree, just like the first, but with different paintings-a snowflake, a baby, a storm...

 _There’s no way…_

But what does he have to lose?

Alexandre lights the stones in the same sequence of events as his dream. As he lights the last one, the child. He hears rumbling. 

Father Petrus looks at the tree in wonder. “This island really is full of surprises and mysteries...This weird puzzle actually opened the door!” 

Sure enough, where there was once stone, a passageway had opened under the tree. Light pours out from the opening. 

_Here goes nothing._  
________________________________________________

Not long after they enter the passageway, they hear the chanting. This must be the cult.

Alexandre nonverbally communicates instructions to the two men. He makes a special point to point at Petrus’ boots. They can’t have a slip up like earlier. From the sounds of it, there isn’t just one warrior to fight here. 

They sneak forward and find their way in a huge chamber with another dead tree marking its center. He can see the doneigad from the village. The man holds a knife in his hand and is circling the tree. He chants in the native’s language as other cult members chant after him. One after the other, the cultists cut open their palms. In one motion, they bring their bloody palms to the earth surrounding the tree. 

The earth rumbles and then, Alexandre stifles a gasp, the blood starts to levitate off the ground, some force moving it to the tree. Then light and voice come from the tree itself. A woman’s voice calls out to the cultists in their language. He wishes he knew what she was saying. He should have brought Siora. He hadn’t wanted the Inquisition to insult her again. 

Whatever the tree...she...it says, it gets the cultists all riled up. They release a battle cry which rings through the chambers. Alexandre shares a look with his companions. If that wasn’t a clear signal to get out, Alexandre doesn’t know what is. They quietly, but quickly make their way back to the stone circle. 

At the beginning of this day, Alexandre would have put money on this demon idea being a hox, especially after his experience with the Inquisition’s burning of the innocent creature in the Place of Punishment. But now, the idea didn’t seem so farfetched.

They return to camp to discuss their next steps. 

“The mal was not there.” says Kurt. 

“Of course!” Alexandre realizes. Bless Kurt’s military eagle eyes. 

“If she wasn’t there, maybe she doesn’t know?! We should talk to her again. In the middle of day and in public. If we’re wrong, she wouldn’t dare attack with the Inquisition right outside her village.” 

With that, the company turns in for the night. Kurt volunteers for the first watch. The battle cry of the cultists still rings in their ears.   
____________________________________________

Their hunch was not correct. Derdre called the priests fools, not for the ritual, but for letting outsiders observe. She was angry, but thankfully does not send her guards upon them. Could she not see that he was trying to help? The inquisition only had more and more evidence against them! They would burn the village to the ground if they did not come to some understanding. To his frustration, Alexandre saw no choice but to threaten her with the truth…

It didn’t turn out so well. 

“You look like us, but you act like them.” Derdre spits. “You pretend to understand our customs, so show us you are worthy of our trust.” Her words indicated no work could accomplish such a thing, but she continues, “If you confront in fair contest my warriors and defeat them, I will speak with you.” 

Moments later they find themselves looking down into a pit of native warriors, all of them looking at the trio with utter hatred. If they entered it, Derdre had no intention of them leaving alive. Constantin would have thrown a fit. He can hear him now. _Don’t you dare do this!_ But he wasn’t here and Alexandre had to see this through. 

Kurt exhales a long sigh and says what each of them, even Father Petrus, is thinking. 

“Fuck me. Things are about to get dicey.”  
______________________________________________

Around three hours later, Alexandre returns to Derdre, a little worse for wear than when he had left her. 

Despite the limp he now sports, the mal looks surprised at first, and then impressed. 

To his relief, Derdre starts talking.

The funny villager from yesterday was right. The ritual was to make the villagers stronger. The spirits of the earth gave their strength for life’s strength--the blood. Perhaps this wasn’t a curse on the renaigse by villagers with a demon, but still a clue to the malichor? If the “spirit” could strengthen the villagers through blood, maybe it could weaken them through it as well. Maybe another spirit, some being with similar power, was acting against them, creating the blood disease of the continent. 

“Can we contact them?” Alexandre eagerly asks. “I mean, is communication possible?” 

“What you witnessed was not a discussion,” Derdre replies. “But if you visit a sanctuary, you may see one of the faces and then you will be able to talk. Past the mountains and head to the swamps, there if you perform the ritual, you will see them come. Though what you hear may not be to your liking.”  
_________________________________________________

It’s been a long day, a long couple of days, and Alexandre has just about had it. 

They’ve spent the better part of the day trekking through a swamp riddled with poisonous creatures of all sorts and finding countless bodies in various arrays of decay, the most recent ones that of Bridge Alliance soldiers. The swamps only inhabitant was a crazy monk that referred to himself in the plural. And after following the man’s advice and playing music for a rock, a poison spitting tentacle monster with a very unflattering bust rises from the ground and sets itself upon them. And then the old man calls THEM the murderers for taking out his wife! 

A Nadaig! A guardian! A doneigad returned to Nature! Would it have been so hard for the old man to tell them that in the first place?! 

The old man’s curses them, “En on mil frichtimen will soon send you back over the water! He will destroy you as you destroy us! He has already begun!”

Father Petrus turns to him with a frown, “En on mil frichtimen? I have heard that name before. Perhaps it is the name of their demon?”

“One mystery after another. What we take for a demon was a woman transformed into a beast? And now we have but a simple name,” Alexandre scoffs, “En on mil frichtimen. This man or this thing seems to be after us. Perhaps it is behind all of this. We need to learn more”

The old man spits at them again, undoubtedly cursing them in his native tongue and then his face falls and he starts to weep. Of course, he is still angry, but Alexandre does fill a twinge of pain for the man. If that really were his wife...he couldn’t help but pity the man, even if it was unarguable that he shared some of the blame. 

What a day. 

“Talk my ass!” Alexandre snarls under his breath as he puts away his pistol. Derdre has some explaining to do.

____________________________________________________

“You survived!” Derdre blurts out. For some reason, she had not expected to see them again. “Which means, alas, that one of the Nadaig is with us no longer.”

Alexandre’s blood boils. She continues, 

“You are a great warrior. You could almost be a Storm Warrior. What do you seek?”

_How dare you!_

“You set a trap for us, invoking and releasing that creature!”

“It is true,” she replies, as if talking about the weather rather than the planned murder of him and his comrades, “and the Nadaig is indeed one of the faces, a spirit of the isle. I was hoping that you would disappear. The swamps do not like to give back those who enter.”

_No shit!_

“You have seen things that no stranger to our clan has ever seen. Secrets that no one must know.” 

_What an honor._

“But you survived. You are strong, I should not have thought you so weak. I have nothing more to give you than my excuses and than you keep to yourself all that you have seen. Anything more?”

Alexandre grits his teeth. He needs to leave before he punches this woman in the face. With as straight a face as possible, he nods to Derdre, “I need to be going.”

“Kwa awelam seg.” Derdre replies. The words hold respect, but Alexandre is still too angry to notice it.   
_____________________________________________________

The trio return to the main campsite where the rest of the company awaits them. 

Alexandre makes beeline for Siora.

“What do you know of an En on mil frichtimen?” he asks. 

Siora looks a little taken aback by the name. Then with a nod, she motions to one of the logs surrounding the campfire. And her own tale of the many faced god begins.

At least he’s not going back to Constantine with nothing. This En on mil frichtimen may be a potential lead.  
______________________________________________________

As soon as Alexandre gets into his tent, he takes off his boots and strips down to his underclothes. The removal of each piece of heavy equipment brings a pleased sigh to his lips. He then collapses down onto his bed mat and closes his eyes for sleep. 

He turns one way and then the other. 

He covers himself with a blanket, removes it, and then puts it back on again.

With a huff, he reopens his eyes. He is bone tired and yet his mind is wide awake from the past days’ events. 

It wasn’t atypical for insomnia to hit him under stress. On such nights, he would resign himself to some level of productivity by reading a book. But his mind was a little distracted the morning that he packed for this adventure. He had forgotten to pack any books because he was worried about a particular cousin....

_You’ve never even touched yourself, have you?_

Alexandre starts at the memory. Constantin’s voice was so low and deep in his ear that night. Alexandre remembers the smell of sweet wine on his breath. 

Should he?

Alexandre is not completely naive. He knows that masturbation is a great stress reliever. It would undoubtedly help him get to sleep. 

But it felt so wrong.

His mother was a devout and religious follower of the Luminous faith. Not to mention, very old-fashioned. She was unwavering in her loyalty to his father, even after death. Alexandre had always admired that about her. He wanted to find someone that he could look at in the same way that his parents had looked at eachother, someone that made him feel whole with just the thought of her...or him. His parents looked far happier than the other noblemen and women with their trysts. Alexandre was taught by the priests as soon as he started to become a man that masturbation was a sin against one’s future spouse. According to the priests, it filled one’s mind with thoughts of others and was akin to being unfaithful. If this was part of what made the love between his parents so strong, he could make the sacrifice. But now he wonders...

_Why would it be wrong?_

Constantine’s voice pops back into his head. But this time it doesn’t stop at just a memory.

 _What if you didn’t think of anyone at all?_ Constantine’s voice whispers, genuinely curious.

Alexandre frowns at the thought. Would it still be wrong? If he didn’t think of anything at all, it would be a sleep aid and that's it; purely clinical. 

Alexandre licks his lips and dwells on the thought for a moment before reaching down to untie his pants. 

Nervously, he reaches in to take out his cock. 

…

He holds it for a moment. It lies odd and soft in his hand. His body is humming with nervous energy.

 _Now or never, Alex._ he thinks. 

He grips it and hisses when he starts off a little too tight. 

_Fuck it, never mind._

_I’m disappointed, cousin, you’ve never been so quick to give up before._

Alexandre winces at the return of Constantin’s voice in his head.

_I can’t do this. It’s too weird._

_Well of course it’s weird. You went straight for it!_

Alexandre closes his eyes and wills Constantin’s voice away. He really must be mentally exhausted.

 _Just listen, cousin. I want you to breathe._ Constantin’s voice whispers gently.

Breathing. He can do that. 

_In and out. In and out. That’s it. Lovely._

Alexandre’s face reddens and he feels his heart rate pick up. How does Constantin make him blush in his thoughts? He tries to even out his breaths to slow his heart back down. 

_It’s fine. Alex. Now I want you to take your hand and run it through your hair like I did the other day. You liked that, didn’t you?_

Alexandre’s breath hitches. He did. It had felt good. And when he had pulled on his hair slightly….

_You got hard then didn’t you, cousin?_

_Oh, fuck._

The combination of pulling on his hair and the memory of that night sends electricity through him. His cock starts to harden. 

_Gods, you’re doing great. We’ll do something a little different now, ok?_

Alexandre nods his head. His eyes are still closed. In his mind’s eye Constantin is sitting next to him, his hand running through his hair. 

_I want you to take your hand and run it down to your chest, slowly._

His hand moves from his hair and down to his neck. It pauses there and wraps around his throat, his thumb pushing slightly into the pulse point. 

“Constantin!” Alexandre gasps out. 

_Shhhh. You’re doing so good. Your heart is beating so fast for me. Keep going Alex._

But the hands moving down his chest are no longer his own. They’re Constantin’s. Alexandre lets out a small gasp.

He’s starting to cross a line. It’s too much and at the same time not enough. He needs to stop. 

_I’m...fi..fine now, Constantine. You can leave._ His cock is aching, he needs to touch it, but he shouldn’t be thinking of him.

Constantine smiles down at him. His hands keep moving. His next words ruin him. 

_Oh, good boy._

And that’s when everything changes. A needy whine escapes his mouth as Alexandre’s imagination gets the better of him, letting Constantin take complete control. Imaginary Constantin straddles him and presses him down against the mat. 

Constantin kisses hard, like he’s determined for Alexandre to have his first conscious orgasm without even touching himself. Alexandre gasps into it, desperate, and then there’s a tongue in his mouth and, gods, it’s nothing like the sweet kisses he’s seen at court. And want he didn’t even know he was capable of hits him like a bolt of lightning. He bucks upward, but groans when he feels nothing but air. His cousin isn’t really here, after all. 

_Should I? Make you cum just like this? Desperate? Humping the air?_ Constantin growls. Alexandre moans at his voice, pulling from the few times he’s heard Constantin be angry. 

_But that would be cruel? Wouldn’t it? To have you wait all this time and not even get to touch? Go ahead, Alex. Touch yourself. Start gently and work your way up._

With that, Alexandre reaches down and grabs his cock, giving it a tentative stroke. At the same time, imaginary Constantin returns a hand to his hair, tugging it to bare Alexandre’s throat, scraping teeth across the exposed skin. 

“Ahh, fuck!” Alexandre moans. The touch on his cock becomes more sure of itself, hard and powerful, like he imagines Constantin’s touch would be. 

_Shhh._ imaginary Constantin chastises. _You have to be quiet, Alex. Or else they’ll hear you. And they’ll know how hard you are for me._

Keeping one hand moving on himself, Alexandre uses his other hand to cover his mouth. 

_What would the Father say is he saw you like this, hmm?_ Alexandre moans, his hand muffles the sound. _But he never will see you like this, because it’s just for me isn’t it? My lovely boy. You’re just for me, aren’t you Alexandre? So fucking perfect._

The praise, the affection in Constantin’s voice, Alexandre feels drunk on it. He imagines Constantin’s hands everywhere, sliding over every inch of his body. What would he say if he could see his cousin now? 

And it’s humiliating, and it’s amazing and it’s so good...

_I’d say you’re perfect. Such a good boy._

Fuck, the images are overwhelming. Alexandre feels tears pricking at his eyes. It’s too much. He can’t take it. Is this what it’s always like?

_Go on Alex, you’re close aren’t you? You’ll come for me, yes? Come for me, love._

At that, it only takes a few more pulls, and then Alexandre’s coming. He moans deeply into his hand, biting down on it and his hips lose control, bucking upward into his grip. 

_Good boy_ imaginary Constantin says one last time, smiling down at Alexandre before he disappears. 

As he comes down from the high, the intensity of it all, Alexandre opens his eyes and stars up at the ceiling of his tent. He can hear his pulse pounding in his own ears. He’s sticky and slick with his own come and his lips ache from where he pressed a little too hard with his hands to keep quiet. His brain starts to feel fuzzy. So this is the post-orgasmic haze people rave about. He tries to stay awake this time, he needs to figure this out, whatever the hell this was. But his eyes daze over as a rush of hormones hits him. And it isn’t long until sleep takes him.  
_______________________________________________

Alexandre wakes up early the next morning and the reality of what he had done hits him. Not only had he sinned by masturbating to the thoughts of another, he had sinned by masturbating to thoughts of his cousin. Between the dream on the voyage, to his body’s reaction to Constantin’s innocent touches on two occasions, and now this, Alexandre cannot shrug off his actions as meaningless. Shame cuts through him like a knife. Maybe Siora is right, maybe they are all monsters, in one way or another. Maybe he is one of the worst. The whole new world at his fingertips and he wants the one thing he can’t have? His own bloody cousin. 

Alexandre feels bile rise in his throat. How on earth will he face Constantin now? Constantine had always been a very tactile person. The small touches here and there. How was he supposed to respond to them? How could he look him in the face as if he hadn’t wronged him so? This was wrong. So wrong. He was wrong. 

He can’t think about it anymore. He can’t afford it, not here. So Alexandre sits there until morning, mind blank, staring forward, when a gentle rapping on the flap of the tent knocks him out of his stupor and into action. It is time to go.

When Alexandre leaves the tent, his companions are silent. Father Petrus refuses to look at him. When Alexandre walks by, he coughs awkwardly before looking away to finish his pack. When he looks at Vasco, the captain gives him a knowing smile and a wink. 

_Oh no._

That’s when Kurt comes up beside him and gives him a nudge with his shoulder. “Someone sounded like they were having a nice dream, eh, Greenblood?” from Kurt.

Alexandre gives a small groan. His gut drops.

“Why is everyone acting so strangely?” says Siora. Alexandre blushes.


	11. The Battle

“Loodig blew”

“No...Ludeig blau”

“Loodeig blau”

“Ludeig blau!”

“Honestly, Siora, I’m saying it the same way you are.”

“Do all of your kind have poor ears? You are doing this on purpose I swear.”

“And tempt your wrath? I would never, she-wolf.” 

Siora had spent the better part of two hours teaching the company common phrases of the natives. Kurt’s attention was starting to wane and it was much too tempting to tease the princess instead. Despite her glaring, Siora didn’t seem to mind. She gave as good as she got. For the rest of the company, the friendly banter was a welcome distraction. The redwoods were beautiful, but they have not had a decent night’s rest since Vedieug. 

“Take it easy lovebirds. Kurt, if you distract our guide too much we’ll never get back home,” says Captain Vasco with an impish smile. 

“Lovebird? What is that?” asks Siora with a tilt of her head. Is it Vasco’s imagination or if the mighty Kurt blushing?

“It’s nothing, Siora. The captain is just cranky not to have a ship rocking him to sleep.” Kurt chimes back. 

Captain Vasco lets out a deep laugh. “Aye! Can’t blame a man for...Oh wait, maybe it was yer snores that did the trick in keepin’ me up.” As Kurt scoffs in protest, Vasco turns to Alexandre for backup. His laughing falls short when he sees the man deep in thought. He’s always been a thoughtful man, but he’s been peculiarly silent since Vedieug.

Alexandre. 

The man was a conundrum. 

He was a gentleman through and through, but not a snob like most merchant nobles. He was obsessed with books, but was one of the most skilled fighters Vasco had ever met. He had magic powers and a clean shot, but didn’t revell in the death those skills carried out. Many a time, Vasco caught him apologizing to beasts that they didn’t manage to sneak around. He truly did want the best for his people...and he wasn’t even one of them. The captain frowns with some measure of guilt at the thought. Yes, he knew Alexandre was a sea-born. A native baby born on a ship set for Serene. It’s said the broken contract between the Nauts and the Prince d’Orsay had led to the discovery of the island by the Alliance and Theleme. So if it weren’t for Alexandre, he wouldn’t even be here. Hell, they all probably wouldn’t be here. But as fate would have it, the man that unknowingly brought such discord to the island was now bending over backwards to save it. He didn’t know what was crazier: this mission to get four countries to play nice, Alexandre’s personal quest to cure the malichor, or that he had to set aside his captain’s hat to become a snitch for the admiral. He hated snitches. She had ordered him to keep an eye on Alexandre. _Naut contracts don’t just disappear, Vasco,_ she had said.

Fate was a stormy bitch. 

The admiral had given him an impossible task. He didn’t know how he was supposed to convince Alexandre to become a Naut. He was piss-deep in the rest of the island’s problems. Hmm. Actually, maybe he’d join them just to get away from it all. 

No...The man would never leave his cousin. 

The captain knows this. More than anyone. The ties of family, whether by blood or choice, were strong. If anyone were to ask him to leave the Nauts, he’d laugh in their face, offer them a drink, and then shoot them after they had their first sip. 

Hell knows what the admiral was thinking. Vasco grits his teeth. The admiral wanted him to prove his worth. As if countless successful voyages weren’t enough? But what choice did he have? No, he’d have to stick this one out. Make sure the hybrid whelp didn’t get himself killed. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he had grown fond of Alexandre. He’d started to admire him ever since the man had come into his cabin with wide eyes asking him questions for hours about his gun collection. He swears, he’d never met a man that could ask so many questions. 

Which is why his silence is a little disconcerting. 

Alexandre could usually be found near the front of the company, walking to and fro cataloging everything he saw, writing little notes in a journal kept on his belt, yelling out questions to Siora. 

But now the man trailed near the back, a frown on his face and his eyes furrowed in deep thought. Something was clearly bothering him.

Under normal circumstances, if it were one of his crewmen, Vasco would let it be. As long as they got their job done, whatever shit a man or woman was dealing with would eventually work itself out. Wasn’t much room on a ship for serious problems. If it kept them from doing their job, he’d step in to give them something worth worrying about.   
But they weren’t on a ship and Alexandre’s problems would affect more than the quality of knots tied or how quickly packages were moved. They were about to reach a village of warriors hellbent on attacking the Bridge Alliance to convince them that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t the brightest of ideas to bring spears to a gunfight. Alexandre needed to be on the top of his game. 

Plus whatever was bothering the man was dragging down his pace. Jokes between Siora and Kurt aside, they could all feel it. If anything, maybe the banter was a means to distract them from it. And no one was saying anything, but they were moving so damn slow! At this rate, they wouldn’t reach the village before nightfall as expected. 

“Perhaps, my child, you can teach us the native phrase for ‘I apologize.’ Light knows, we may need it.” 

Father Petrus’ suggestion brings Captain Vasco out of his internal ramblings. It also gives him an idea. 

The father had known Alexandre since he was a child. Maybe he could be convinced to talk to the lad. 

So with that, the captain moves towards the father and starts to speak to him in a low voice, so as not to be overheard.

“Mighty quiet day, eh, Father?”

Father Petrus looks at the captain and his eyes widen only a fraction. He must be surprised at Vasco approaching him, but the man is far too well trained to show it. Vasco tended to steer clear from clergymen. Their words were far too tricky. But Father Petrus did seem to have a paternal bond of sorts with Alexandre.

“Why yes. A tad cloudy too, wouldn’t you say?” the father says with a quirk of his brow and a look to Alexandre.

 _Clever man._ At least their on the same page….he thinks. 

“Vedrhais is a day’s walk away. Mind you, I’d like to get there before nightfall. Rather not set up camp to wake up and walk an hour more til’ our destination.”

…

The Father remains thoughtfully silent. 

_Not gonna make this easy for me are ye?_

Vasco huffs. “Look, I’ll get to the point.” He nods back to Alexandre. “The lad’s sulking and dragging his feet. We all know it, but none of us got the guts to say something.”

“Ah...you want me to talk to him.” A statement not a question.

“If you would…”

“Why not talk to him yourself?” Father Petrus asks quizzically.

Vasco sighs. “Alexandre’s a good chap, but we ain’t exactly best mates. Don’t think he’d be honest with me, at least not yet. You’ve known him since he was a kid and isn’t this part of your job to...er...take confession?”

Petrus lets out a laugh.

“I’m not that type of clergyman.”

“Either way…” Vasco huffs, “the kid’s miserable and as annoying as his curious non-stop chattering default setting is, I’d prefer that to this,” he jerks his head towards the brooding man in question.

“Kid? Aren’t the two of you around the same age?”

“The sea ages a man. Are you going to talk to him or not? I’ll remind you, we are moving at a snail's pace to stop a war.”

“Of course, my child. Forgive me, I was merely curious. We haven’t had the chance to converse much before.”

“Hmm. I’ll be honest, haven’t had much success talking to holy men. Haven’t met one that hasn’t tried to convert me.”

“And if I told you that I had no intentions to convert you, would you oppose sitting with an old man for tea?”

“I’ll...consider it…”

“I look forward to it, captain. Alexandre tells me you have a fascinating collection of antique arms. Now, if you’ll excuse me. Something tells me that our dear Alexandre needs a listening ear.”

“Hmph!” 

_Well if that wasn’t the oddest conversation of my life._  
_________________________________________________________

As they get closer to the village of Vedrhais, Alexandre’s thoughts are torn. On one hand, he wants nothing more than to return to New Serene, to Constantin, to share the knowledge of En on mil frichtimen. On the other hand, he is terrified of looking his cousin in the eyes. His damn imagination. That damned dream.

_So fucking perfect, Alexandre._

Alexandre feels his face heat up. Every night since, he’s heard that voice. But he’s refused to touch himself. And he’d slept only hours at a time...too afraid of his dreams betraying him. 

_You did so well for me._

_Stop it, dammit!_

Not to mention, he had been too loud. Thank goodness none of them had heard him say Constantin’s name. He couldn’t do it again. Couldn’t take the chance of making things worse. 

“I hope you will not think me rude in saying it appears you have a lot on your mind, my son?”

Alexandre jolts when Father Petrus addresses him. Wasn’t the man just up ahead talking to Captain Vasco? He didn’t even notice him beside him. Damn, his senses must be more frazzled than he thought. He needed to sleep. 

He blushes slightly under the father’s scrutiny. Knowing the man of light had heard his...ahem...experimentation was the closest thing to a parent walking in on a compromising situation as he would probably ever get. 

“No...I, I’m fine, Father. Just a little tired.”

“If I may be so bold. I think it is more than that.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’ve been this way for several days now. Since the night after we returned from Vedieug. You were very angry when we left.”

“Well yes, I should have held my tongue I suppose…”

“Was that you not holding your tongue? We were sent to our deaths and then were treated as if that were nothing. Considering, I think you were quite cordial. But such stress would weigh on a man…”

“No, no. I was angry, but it’s over now. It’s not that.”

“So it is something?”

 _Damn_ He got him at that. Alexandre doesn’t know what to say.

“Is it this new knowledge of En on mil frichtimen? Worry for the malichor? This mission to find a solution has driven many a man mad.”

After a couple of steps or so, Alexandre responds. 

“My mother has it you know, the malichor. Even if I were to find a cure, it wouldn’t be in time.”

“I...I hate to hear that my child. She was a lovely woman.”

“Did you know her well?”

“I knew her enough to know she cared deeply, for both you and her people.”

Alexandre reaches for his pocket and pulls out the coin his mother gave him. He hears the Father’s breath catch, but doesn’t think much of it. The coin is foreign after all. 

“She gave me this before I left. Wanted me to have it. It reminds me of why I’m here. My purpose.”

“And what is that purpose?”

“To find a cure! To learn as much about this place as I can. The Malichor has been around since I was born, but I remember Serene as a child before it got bad. It was a beautiful city. The smell of bread in the air as it wafted over the buildings by the wind off the sea, music constantly playing, children in the streets.” Alexandre smiles at the memory, but then it fades. “And now you go outside and see a pyre of burning bodies. Painted Xs on the doors. Some with bodies still in them because they had no loved ones left to give them a proper burial.” 

“I should be focusing on this,” Alexandre holds the coin up to the sunlight. “Not, wasting my time worrying about whether or not I…” He catches himself. 

He looks at the ground and his face fills with shame. In that moment, Father Petrus’ heart clenches even tighter for the boy. No one so young should have this much of a burden on their shoulders. 

“You are a good person, Alexandre. No matter what happens, your mother would be proud. And nothing you could do would make her, or me for that matter, think less of you, my child.” 

_Oh, father, if only you knew…”_

“Father, I…”

He almost tells him. It’s there on the tip of his tongue and the Father’s eyes are so understanding. But this...problem...of his, as disgusting as it may be, is absolutely nothing compared to the mission he has. He resolves himself then and there to refocus on what truly matters. Perhaps he will get the coin attached to a chain when he returns to New Serene. Having it close to his heart would be an ever present reminder of what is at stake.

Father Petrus still hasn’t said a word. He patiently waits for Alexandre to speak.

“Thank you, Father. I suppose I’m just worried. What if I fail?”

“The Enlightened One knows your heart child. That is what matters. Even if our work is not successful, others will come behind to work to its completion. Light will always win.”

“I...of course. Of course, you’re right. Talking has been very helpful, thank you, Father.”

“Anytime my son. Are you sure there is nothing else that is bothering you?”

“No. No, I’m fine. I just needed the reminder, that’s all.”

Alexandre gives Father Petrus an assurring smile and picks up the pace to walk past him. 

The rest of the company breathe a sigh of relief when around twenty minutes later, Alexandre pulls out his journal and points out a bird flying overhead to Siora, asking her what it is called. The pace has picked up considerably. Alexandre goes back to talking freely to the rest of the companions. 

Little does he know Father Petrus continues to give him looks throughout the rest of the journey. 

The Father knows a liar when he sees one.   
_________________________________________________

“We are here!” proclaims Siora. 

Before the company lies a simple stone archway. Siora runs ahead and disappears beyond the hill it lies on. Alexandre and Kurt exchange looks. Kurt shrugs and follows Siora. 

When Alexandre makes it up and over the hill and through the archway, he lets out a small gasp. If one missed the archway, they wouldn’t even know the village of Vedrhais existed. Over the hill, the village lies in a small valley surrounded by stone and forest. Dwelling mounds covered in vegetation scatter the village. They seem to sprout from the ground itself. The village is thicketed by trees in various stages of green, orange, yellow, and red. Tiny stones with hollowed out centers decorate the village in random patches, reminiscent of mushrooms. Alexandre’s eyes move from building, to stone, to tree and back again. It is hard to distinguish at first glance what is natural and what is man-made. A rattling noise echoes through the village on occasion, mixing with the songs of birds. An insect or an instrument? He cannot tell. 

_Harmony._ The word comes to Alexandre. Everything blends so beautifully here. 

Alexandre’s eyes finally settle on what must be the village center. There, a large stone with spiral markings stands tall. Spears and worshippers surround its base. Alexandre makes a note to ask Siora about it later.

 _So this is Gais rad, the clan of red spears._

For a people named after a bloodied spear, the villagers are not what Alexandre would expect. They appear unbothered by the strangers. A few of them even nod or wave at them as they walk past to catch up with Siora. One man even smiles eagerly at them, yelling out, “...Do you want to trade!?”

A little taken aback, Alexandre pauses for a moment, looking between the man and Siora. She hasn’t slowed down, they’ll lose her if they are not careful. “Maybe later!” Alexandre calls back, giving an apologetic nod towards Siora. The man nods in return, his eyes are filled with humor. Alexandre moves into a jog to catch up with her. 

Siora finally comes to a halt in front of a large domed dwelling marked by several of the hollowed out stones around its base. She turns to Alexandre as they catch up. She appears nervous. 

“Thank you for this, On ol menawi.” 

Before Alexandre can respond, she goes to the door and opens it, beckoning them inside.   
________________________________________

They were too late.

Queen Bládnid was gone.

She had already led the red clan to battle against the Bridge Alliance in a place Arwant called díd e kíden nádaigeis.

And so Alexandre and company found themselves running towards the battleground at an all out sprint through the redwoods. At Siora’s behest, they had taken the shorter left path. The terrain was grueling and had a number of beasts along the way. Poor father Petrus wheezes behind him. The poor man is in full armor. And Kurt has a new scar from the claws of that bear creature to add to his collection. Alexandre feels for them, but they cannot afford to slow down. He focuses on breathing and ignores his protesting legs. 

He smells the battle before he sees it. Fire and gunsmoke fills the air, mixed with the metallic odor of blood. It’s a smell Alexandre is getting all too familiar with these days. 

With one final vault over a rock wall, they reach the main grounds of Díd e kíden nádaigeis just in time to see natives and alliance soldiers fighting amongst ruins. Not many remain on their feet. The ground is littered with bodies from both sides. 

“My sister is surrounded! We have to help her! Come!” cries Siora. She pulls out her sword, her magic lighting it on fire as she charges forward with a battle cry. The sword slices through the nearest alliance soldier like a butterknife. The smell of roasted meat fills the air. She moves like fire from one opponent to the next. 

“I’m glad she’s on our side.” grunts Kurt. He unsheathes his sword. With a tilt of his hat he charges forward as well. Where Siora is a chaotic fire, he moves with slow precision. But seeing the wall that is Kurt marching forward is no less menacing. When an alliance soldier runs towards him, Kurt easily knocks the sword from his hand. With a bone-crushing stomp to his leg, Kurt sends him to the ground and runs his throat through. 

Captain Vasco and Father Petrus join the fray next. A small group of alliance soldiers that have flinched away from Siora and Kurt turn towards them. With a look at the unarmored Naut and the old man, the soldiers make the mistake of actually thinking they have a chance. Captain Vasco makes shallow cuts, but with his poisons he doesn’t need to strike deep. A shallow cut to the arm suddenly turns black and makes a man feel like he plunged the whole of his hand into a bat of hot oil. When one soldier tries to strike him from behind, he is met by an invisible force. A shield. Father Petrus. The man’s old eyes flint quickly from one part of the battle to the next. His hands move quickly to cast protective shields on not just Captain Vasco, but natives as well, saving them from alliance blows. Occasionally, he casts a burst of shadow to an oncoming soldier, returning in a second’s time to his defensive and healing spells. His mouth moves constantly as he casts, praying as he sends Alliance soldiers to meet the one he prays towards. 

_I suppose I can’t let them have all the fun._ Alexandre distastefully thinks to himself. What a waste of human life. With a flick of the wrist, the soldiers slow before him. He cocks his gun and takes aim for a soldier in Siora’s blindspot. 

Just because he’s good at this doesn’t mean he’s going to enjoy it.   
__________________________________

Alexandre watches on with curiosity and horror as a giant root sweeps an Alliance soldier into the air. 

_There’s no way._

Alexandre looks towards Siora. Her palms are pressed into the ground and her eyes look on the man in intense concentration.

_There’s simply no way!_

When he hears the entangled man scream, he turns back to him. He looks just in time to see a knife fly skillfully into the man’s eye socket, lodging into his brain mid-scream. 

All is quiet for a moment. Then the survivors react. 

“Eseld!” Siora calls with worry. It appears like she has to forcibly pull her hands away from the earth, the effort of it almost flinging her backwards when she does. As soon as her hands pull away, the root drops the dead man and returns inward to the ground. Siora runs to her sister. When she reaches her, she almost pulls her into a hug, but something stops her short. Her sister, Eseld, does not seem as pleased to see them.

“You are too late, Siora! Mother has fallen and we are defeated!”

“No! No! No!...” Siora turns away from her sister and looks at Alexandre with pleading eyes, “This is not fair!” 

Alexandre’s gut clenches. If only he were a little faster. They had only missed her mother by hours. If only he wasn’t so damn distracted by his own stupid problems. They were nothing compared to this. 

But he can’t take that back.

“I am so sorry.” It’s all he can say. 

Eseld walks to them. “Who is this man? He resembles one of us but is dressed like a renaigse”

“I am the ambassador of the Congregation of Merchants,” he cringes at his own words. _Some good ambassador you are._ Alexandre licks his lips before continuing. His throat is dry. Ashes in the air sting his eyes. He’s failed them. “I am sorry for your loss…”

“The Congregation?” Eseld says with disbelief, her posture becomes defensive. “And what side are you on in this war? Those that massacre our people?” 

“Eseld!” Siora chides, “calm down! You know that mother sent me to seek out allies…”

Her sister ignores her, “You show up when the fight was nearly over!” Alexandre winces. “Was this part of your plan?” she accuses. Turning towards her sister, Eseld grits her teeth, “You know that these monsters are taking our own, they must make honorable amends!” 

He needs to salvage this and fast. 

“We did our best to come as fast as we could,” _Should have been faster_ “and I fought by your side. Please, please take the time to at least hear me out,” he pleads. “There has already been enough death, and you are wounded. This is not the time for vengeance!”

Eseld looks like she is going to bite him, but then she sighs. Her shoulders drop.

“You may be right.” she says. Then she tilts her chin upwards with resolve. “Waiting for my vengeance will make its taste all the sweeter.” The pride is fleeting as Eseld turns to her sister. Siora gives her a pained look and Eseld’s face drops. It seems as if she is only just noticing her sister. Her anger fades away, a look of sorrow in its place. 

She addresses Siora, “I feel weak, might I ask you to watch over our own, Siora? I must return to the village.”

“Go on ahead. We will tend to the wounded…” Siora assures her. 

“Yes, we will do everything we can.” Alexandre agrees. 

“And...and find my mother, or her body if...if she is indeed dead.” Siora manages. Another wave of guilt runs through Alexandre. He wants to make her pain go away, but...

“Look at this massacre, how…”

“Find her banner, it bears the symbol of our clan.”

He nods. 

This at least he can do.   
____________________________________________

The company is silent as they traverse the ruins of díd e kíden nádaigeis. 

Eventually, Alexandre’s curiosity gets the best of him and he gingerly asks Siora, “These ruins are very strange...By what name did you call this place again?” In part he is also testing the waters. Seeing how Siora is handling things. To his relief she responds thoughtfully. 

“The díd e kíden nádaigeis. There was once a battle in the past. A great victory for our clans.”

Alexandre examines the ruins. Walls of broken brick in organized grids line the field. Alexandre purses his lips in thought. He thinks out loud, “Strange, indeed. These walls are completely foreign to the styles of your own dwellings...Does this name that you gave the ruins mean anything in particular?”

“Yes, it means, ‘ruins of the first guardian’”. 

“I would like to dig a little on the site. We might be able to unearth clues as to who actually built them.” He says it without thinking. His eyes widen and he turns to Siora, an apology at the tip of his lips. _Insensitive, Alexandre!_

But Siora is looking at him with understanding eyes. She has only known him a short while, but she already sees so much of who he is. She isn’t offended by his curiosity. 

Before she can respond however, they hear a small groan from a nearby pile of bodies. So instead she says, “Over there! I think that man is still breathing. Let’s make sure!”  
_________________________________________

Father Petrus was a lifesend. Thanks to his diligence and Siora’s senses, they had managed to heal as many survivors as possible. It didn’t make things better, but it was a step at least. 

The company moves to a new part of the ruins, when he sees it. The red flag. Siora sees it soon after and she rushes past him. Torn between want and grief, the later takes over and the woman falls to the ground, swaying forward and backward in pain. She lets out a guttural moan and lifts her hand to her mouth. Great sobs rack her small frame.

Against the flag’s pole an Alliance soldier shifts, a broken spear can be seen jutting out from his left side. But it doesn’t appear to have hit anything vital. He groans with pain before he speaks.   
“I beg of you...Help me…”

Siora gets to him before Alexandre can. 

“And still you dare to breathe!” The princess crawls toward him. Her movements turn predatory.

“How can you hope that I am here to save you?!” Siora spits out. Her body blocks him slightly from view, but Alexandre can see that Siora has again brought up roots from the ground. This time they are smaller tendrils that start to wrap around the man. The roots reach his neck at the same time as Siora’s hands. One tendril tightens around his neck, another moves towards his eye. 

“What have you done with my mother?!” She screams in his face, a crazed look in her eye.

Terrified, the man starts to plead, “Pity! I...Beg...of...you…” He cannot breathe. “I...Don’t...Want to...Die!” he gasps.

“Then answer!”

He doesn’t recognize this woman. She’s going to kill him. 

“Siora!” Alexandre calls out, “Stop! Look at yourself! You are acting like a beast!”

Siora’s eyes furrow and she looks at the man in her grasp for a moment before moving backward. The roots start to unwind themselves from the soldier. She sits back and Alexandre knows her once more. The look of understanding, of quiet reflection returns to her eyes. 

“A beast has far more majesty than these monsters who have traded their souls.” she says. 

He couldn’t agree more.  
_____________________________________________

There is hope.

Queen Bládnid may still be alive. Taken by the Bridge Alliance. They wouldn’t have taken away a corpse. 

And the hope drives them further into the ruins. 

Alexandre’s skin itches with questions as he looks across the broken buildings, but this time he doesn’t have to worry about holding his tongue. Because Siora speaks first.

“Look, there are some images on these walls.”

It’s all the invitation he needed. 

“Let’s get closer.”

The building is made out of stone cut bricks, the architecture familiar. But the paintings are reminiscent of the swamp where they had called the nadaig guardian. Alexandre moves slowly towards them, in awe. He pulls out his journal. 

“This is the first time I’ve seen these drawings so closely…” Siora confesses. 

“You have never come here? You certainly seem to know the place.”

She explains, “This site is sacred and taboo. Everyone knows where it is, but no one ever comes here. All of these colors are so beautiful. I never would have imagined that they could create something so delicate.”

_They?_

“Who are you talking about?” Alexandre questions. 

“Of those who built these lodgings, that my ancestors vanquished in a past war.”

Alexandre moves closer to the wall, he places a hand on the volcano depicted by the painting. There is an important question in the back of his head, but he doesn’t quite know what it is yet. Instead he asks, 

“You know who they were?”

“I only know the legend. The legend of díd e kíden nádaigeis.” She pauses for a moment.

“I’m listening…” Alexandre says to egg her on. There is something here. He knows it!

The story must be a sad one. He can hear it in her voice when she continues. “It is said that our people lived peacefully, until men appeared from the sea, intent on making our lands their own. They dug great caverns into the earth, ripped down our forest, destroying everything in their wake.”

 _Much like what we are doing now…_ Alexandre thinks as he crosses his arms. She now has his full attention.

“They were evil, the warriors killed so many people, that even their own people came to fear them. Here they built a terrible city that spewed out clouds of cinder and death...like a dying volcano. Our kings and queens were desperate. They went to the heart of our island and the island heard them. From the woods appeared the first guardian, he was taller than a city, and with each step it smashed a lodging. It was a guardian of wrath, and the city could not resist him. Since then the earth answers our call for magic, and in exchange, we become oi menawi in keeping with the pacts our kings and queens once made.”

Alexandre lets out a gust of air. He had been holding his breath. “It is a very sad and terrible legend...I wonder who these people from the sea could have been.” He shakes his head. “A people from the continent no doubt...Our malichor might well be the cursed result of that war from another age.”

 _En on mil frichtimen_ The name comes again to his mind. His blood bond theory is starting to not seem so crazy. It’s still not quite enough though.

“We have nothing more nor anyone else to find here...I must report all we’ve learned to Constantin. We’ll regroup and then head out again to find your mother.”

“Thank you, Alexandre.” Siora says. She leaves the ruined building first, followed by the rest of the company. 

Alexandre takes one last look at the fresco before he turns to leave. So much history here and he can’t help but think that they were doomed to repeat it.


	12. Cracks

“Happy to see you, my dear!” 

Alexandre’s stomach does a flip. Constantin’s looking at Alexandre, but surely he is addressing Siora?

With one close look at him, Alexandre forgets both his eagerness to tell him of this En on mil frichtimen, the painting of the ruins, and his anxiety over the past view days. Instead he fills with worry. Constantin appears more tired than ever. His skin is pale and dark circles line his eyes. 

“You really don’t look well...Have you not yet seen a doctor?”

Constantin’s face turns serious. Should he have asked? 

“No, no. It’s nothing. You know that I’ve always had a weak stomach! My nausea will leave me eventually.” 

Alexandre makes a note to talk with the mansion’s kitchen staff. 

Constantin clears his throat under Alexandre’s scrutiny. “You wanted to tell me something?”

Alexandre takes a breath. Better to get the bad news out of the way first.

“We were not able, alas, to stop the clash between the forces of the Alliance and Siora’s clan. We arrived at the village and the battlefield too late.” _My fault_ “The Queen fell.” He can’t look Constantin in the eye as he says it. He focuses on the back wall instead.

“I am extremely sorry for your loss, princess.”

“Thank you.” says Siora. “My sister survived fortunately and we are recovering from this tragedy together. But our clan was extremely weakened by this battle and by recent events.”

“We shall keep a close eye on the Bridge Alliance and their undertakings, rest assured.” Constantin says. Despite his appearance, his voice is strong, unwavering. 

Alexandre cuts back in, “You should know that the battle took place in the middle of ancient ruins. The ruins were quite strange. We discovered a fresco that I am certain was crafted by continental hands.”

“Really? And how ancient are these ruins? Could they date back to the first landings of the Bridge Alliance?”

Constantin’s reaction to the news is more tame than expected. More...noble. Perhaps he is learning a thing or two about the game from Madame de Morange. It’s necessary he knows, but Alexandre slightly misses the boyish excitement. Could things have changed so much in such a short amount of time? He hopes it’s just for court; that Constantin will pull him aside later with a bombard of questions about every little detail of his travels. Although this time it might be a good idea to not bring any wine…

Siora responds to Constantin’s question, “They date much farther back than their arrival would explain. My mother and grand-mother have always known them.”

“Siora told me of a legend that spoke of them, about a people from the sea that were vanquished there.”

“Do you think it was the Nauts?” Constantin’s eyes glanced at Captain Vasco.

The captain responds, “It is not in our customs to found a landlocked settlement. We have our islands, and it is enough for us.”

He addresses Siora again. “If they are ancient, perhaps your people once practiced older customs.” A thought appears to come to Constantin, “This story is troubling,” he says “but it reminds me of something that I once read in the reports of Lady Morange. You should go and find her, perhaps she could tell us more about them.”

Alexandre nods. It still feels very stiff. Talking to Constantin this way, surrounded by so many eyes and ears. “Very well.” Is all he can think to say. “I’m going to leave now...Good bye Constantin.”

Alexandre is a little put out when his cousin formally nods and says, “Look out for yourself.” 

With a stiff bow, Alexandre turns to leave the meeting hall. He almost bumps into a noble in his exit. 

____________________________________________

Constantin felt like shit. 

_Of course he had noticed and pointed it out._

Constantin had been a little kurt with his cousin. He hoped Alexandre would forgive him for the sudden change in tone, but he had to show himself to be in control. Didn’t want the vultures to circle in tighter. 

He wanted to rush to him to ask him dozens of questions, but dozens of dignitaries, nobles, and townsfolk were in line for the day. He would be here hours yet. Alexandre would be gone to talk with Lady de Morange by now. Who knows when he’d be back. 

Hours later and Constantin can barely hold his eyes open, but the last noble for the day is gone. All matters will wait for tomorrow. With a sigh, Constantin sits up a little straighter in the chair and turns his head to either side, a satisfying pop coming from the motion. 

Typically around this time, he would wash up for dinner. But the thought of food at the moment makes his stomach turn. Alexandre is right. He must look like shit because he certainly feels it. His head has been pounding for days now and no manner of wine, herbs, or sleep seems to fix it. 

With a small groan, Constantin gets up from the chair. His back muscles strain in protest after hours of sitting still. He makes his way to the small study. Perhaps he’ll read a book. With the thought, Constantin smiles. Alexandre would be flabbergasted. 

He makes his way towards one of the bookshelves in the study, when a foreign item on his desk catches his eye. It’s a bottle.

With a quirk of the brow, Constantin turns away from the shelf and towards the desk to pick up the bottle. A note is attached. 

_“For the headache. - Laurine.”_

That night, instead of reading, he tries the wine remedy again. 

You know what they say, ninth times the charm. 

________________________________________

“Lady Laurine de Morange trekking through the ruins in her red dress?” Kurt shakes his head with a smile of disbelief, “I can’t imagine.” 

Alexandre had taken Kurt and Siora to talk with the Lady in her house. Captain Vasco and Father Petrus were at the de Sardet residence. The pair were most likely passed out from the strenuous weeks and battles. Alexandre was ready to join them. He was tired, but being back in New Serene rejuvenated him somewhat.

“She most likely changed into pants, Kurt.” laughs Alexandre

Kurt feigns shock. “Greenblood! That image is even stranger!”

“I have heard of these ruins she speaks of to the East.” says Siora, “But I have never been close to them. It will be difficult to get to it.”

“I suppose our next steps will be to check out the mines she spoke of. They didn’t find an entrance, but perhaps we will have better luck.”

“Please, oh please take Vasco. I’d love to see how a Naut reacts to being in a mine.” 

“Kurt, you just don’t want to go.”

“Oye, why do you say that?”

“You’ve always hated small spaces.” Alexandre winks at Siora and she puts her hand over her mouth. Did she just giggle? All of them are letting loose with the safety of the city. A well deserved break. And he’s glad Siora is taking recent events in stride. 

At Siora’s response, Kurt bristles. “I certainly do not. Where is this mine? Let’s go right now.”

Alexandre puts his hands up in surrender. “In plenty of time, my brave friend. I think we need a few days to rest. Not all of us have the ongoing energy of Captain Kurt!”

The trio arrive back at the de Sardet residence. Kurt and Siora make their way inside, but Alexandre pauses at the door. 

He feels his throat tighten. He should just go inside. Rest. But he knows he won’t.

Kurt turns towards him and quirks a brow?

“You forget something?” He says. 

“No...I...sorry, Constantin asked me to come for tea. We were going to discuss some things.” 

The lie feels unnatural on his tongue. _At least it’s not a full lie_ , Alexandre justifies in his head. If he goes, he will discuss the ruins. Maybe he’ll suggest tea as he gives Constantin a report. He would have asked him to report in at some point anyways.

Kurt stares at him for a moment and Alexandre swallows. Then, Kurt gives him a small smile and shakes his head as he moves towards him. 

“No rest for the wicked, eh, Greenblood!” Kurt pats him on the back. 

“It’s probably nothing serious. He likely just wants more details of the trip. And he’ll want to know what Lady de Morange told us.”

“Going to pull an all nighter again?” Kurt laughed. “Last time you had tea, we didn’t see you until morning!”

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing we all get to sleep in.” Alexandre smiled. 

Kurt laughs. “Amen to that, Greenblood! Amen to that! At least come in and get cleaned up first. You’ve been in those clothes since we got back. Surely you don’t need the cape for tea!”

With that, Alexandre cleans up before he leaves. He then says goodnight to Kurt and Siora. The pair of them are chatting quietly in front of the fireplace, so as not to wake the other two companions. Alexandre locks away the small moments of the day in his memory. It amazes him how much closer they have all grown in such a short time. He had known Kurt his entire life as a mentor, but now he would call him friend. And he had just met Siora, but it felt like he had known her for so much longer. She had a sisterly quality about her that Alexandre was quite fond of. And he was glad for Captain Vasco and Father Petrus as well, although they still had a certain distance to them; the Captain, because of his introverted personality, and the Father, because of the age discrepancy. It had only been a month since they had last left, but it felt like a lifetime ago. He looked forward to a couple of days with them without threats to their lives around every corner. 

But before that…

Alexandre puts his hat back on and leaves his home to make way for the governor’s mansion. 

____________________________________________________

When Alexandre enters the meeting hall, it is completely empty. Not entirely surprising, given the hour. 

_Now, where would he be?_

A small smile graces Alexandre’s lips. Before coming to New Serene, he was always tasked with tracking Constantin down. He wouldn’t admit it to his cousin, but he missed that task.  
He would put money on it that the old Constantin would be down in the cellars with an old bottle of wine or at the local tavern.

But Constantin of New Serene…

Alexandre looks at the door to the right of the hall. Constantin’s study. His cousin was keeping so busy these days that he might as well make this room his first stop. He was still banking (and maybe even hoping) on the cellar. 

He makes his way to the ornate doors and knocks. He almost doesn’t wait for an answer. 

“Come in!” 

Alexandre gives an amused smile. Things really are changing, aren’t they?

When Alexandre enters, his smile widens further. 

In the chair behind the desk, Constantin sits. But he isn’t working. His legs are propped on top of the desk and his chair is leaned back as far as it will go before dropping itself, and its passenger, to the ground. In one hand is a bottle of wine and in the other a book. 

Constantin gives a glance up and then looks back at the book.

“Did you know, dear cousin, that the Bridge Alliance has the most interesting customs?” His words slur slightly. “I mean this one right here,” he gestures toward the book with the wine bottle, “says before a marriage, the mother of the couple weaves carpet for the couple which contains elements of all the nations of the bridge alliance. It supposedly symbolizes the bridging of their two souls.” 

“And you find that interesting?”

“Gods, no. But I thought YOU might find it interesting. To be honest, I’m so glad you came in. I think if I read another line of this, I’ll faint.”

Alexandre wisps the wine bottle away from Constantin’s hand, ignoring his cousin’s scoff of protest. 

“I don’t think it's the book that will cause that. Are you sure you’re alright? You’re looking pale.” 

“I’ve already told you. I’m fine.” Constantin replies. His tone is sharp with no room for argument. Alexandre glares in time. 

“Constantin, I must insist…”

“Enough!” 

Constantin comes to a stand, but does so a little too quickly. Dizzy, he stumbles to a knee.

“Shit, Constantin!” Alexandre exclaims. He rushes around the table to reach down. “Why the fuck are you being such an ass?”

Constantin’s hand comes up to apply pressure to his forehead. It feels like it’s splitting. He grits through the pain,“And why the fuck don’t you understand that you have to think before you speak?”

“What are you on about? I’m just trying to make sure you’re ok!” Alexandre moves to grab his cousin by the arm, but Constantin swats his hand away. He glares at his cousin, but when he sees the wounded look on Alexandre’s face he looks away to speak through gritted teeth. 

“I mean I can’t let my guard down,” he says earnestly, “even for a second! You think I don’t know that I look like shit? But I’ve got it under control. We are no longer children, Alexandre. In that prison of a room” he gestures towards the door to the hall, “I am their prince! Your prince! And you MUST stick to your duties as I stick to mine. Do you understand?” 

“I…”

“No, no. Of course you don’t. Perfect Alexandre. No one’s doubted you your entire life.” Constantin grabs the side of the desk and pulls himself up. He leans against it. Perhaps the wine wasn’t the best of ideas after all. Alexandre stands with him. He moves his hands out to steady his cousin, but then thinks better of it and grips them in fists by his side. 

When Constantin gets settled against the table he glares at Alexandre for a second, but then something switches. The anger falls from his face and weariness lies in its stead. With a sigh, he sits on the table and bends over to put his head in his hands. 

“To think. Before we left, I wanted you to lighten up a bit. To not worry so much.” Constantin lets out a sarcastic laugh, “Now look at me.”

He feels Alexandre move to sit next to him on the table. 

They sit there a moment in silence.

“I’m not perfect.”

Constantin doesn’t move his head from his hands. Alexandre takes the silence as an ok to speak on.

“You say no one ever doubts me? Fine. But you know what’s worse? The expectation that I can fix everything and then that utter look of disappointment when I don’t.”

Constantin turns to look at Alexandre through the cracks of his fingers. 

“I haven’t told you everything. From our mission. Siora’s mother....I could have saved her. But we were late, and only just so. All because I was so caught up in…in my own head.”

Alexandre licks his lips and swallows. His tone is bitter.

“And I get it. I do. I wasn’t trying to downplay your role here. I just...I just didn’t want someone else in my life to suffer when I could have done something to make it better.” 

Silence again. 

Finally, Constantin scoffs, “A man that can never win and a man that can never lose. Fate certainly has a sense of humor.” 

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, Constantin. I wish you could see yourself as I do.”

“As a drunk, skirt chaser to be cleaned up after? That’s been your job half of your life practically. How did you phrase it before? Hiding the shit from me?”

“I didn’t mean that before. It was unworthy of me. I was frustrated. That isn’t what I see. I see a man that loves life. A man that loves his people. A man that wants to make this world better than the one we left behind.”

“...”

“...”

“When you put it like that, I do sound rather nice.”

Alexandre gives him a small smile. A glint comes to his eye. 

“We should probably work on the drinking thing though.”

“Hmm, righto. Tell you what…” Constantin gets up sways to a cabinet in the corner of the room. Inside it are glasses. He grabs one and returns to the table to pick the wine bottle up again. He pours a glass and offers it to Alexandre. “Let’s make a deal. For every glass I don’t drink, you do drink.” 

Alexandre rolls his eyes, but grabs the glass. He takes a sip. “Not the worst arrangement, I suppose.” 

He looks thoughtful, when he lowers the glass.

“In turn, I have a deal for you.”

“Hm?”

“For every time you feel like you do today, I won’t mention it in front of anyone again, the court will be business only, but you MUST talk to me in private as soon as possible. I need to know that you are doing okay.” 

“Not the worst arrangement, I suppose,” Constantin repeats, his voice a little softer. 

“Be honest with me Constantin. Are you okay?”

Constantin sighs. “No, no, I’m obviously not in top form. But it’ll pass. Just a bug. Made worse by stress, I’m sure.”

“Is there anything I can do? What would you usually do to alleviate stress?”

“Take a bath. Helps, but not for long...Wine. But you’ve seen how much that has helped...Sex. But there’s not exactly any takers without an agenda. You willing to go that far? Give your virginity away for a headache?” Constantin laughs bitterly.

Alexandre stiffens next to him. 

“Shit. Alex, you know I’m only teasing. I don’t mean to poke fun at you. I admire how…” Constantin turns to look at his cousin and the words catch in his throat. 

Alexandre looks away with a blush, but it’s enough. That look. There’s no mistaking it. Sure, there was confusion and shame, but also something Constantin’s seen in the eyes of many a bar wench.

Want. 

Constantin feels the back of his neck prickle. An all too familiar heat settles in his stomach. His own face starts to flush as memories of a bath induced daydream come to the forefront of his mind. 

Alexandre clears his throat. “Perhaps some sleep will help?” He moves to get up, refusing to look Constantin in the eye. “I will see you tomorrow for lunch, I hope. Mr De Courcillon told me that you’ve been enjoying lunches on the porch facing the…”

A sudden pull forces Alexandre back down towards the table. Constantin yanks on the front of his shirt so hard that Alexandre has to catch himself with one hand on the table to the opposite side of Constantin to keep himself from sprawling on top of him. He’s steadied as Constantin pulls himself up to stand. With his free hand, Constantin grabs Alexandre’s chin and turns it to face him. He holds it steady. Alexandre tries to move, but Constantin’s grip is firm. 

They stand like that, face to face as Alexandre’s eyes flick back and forth between Constantin’s face, his lips, and away again. He licks his own lips. Constantin’s eyes follow the motion. Alexandre feels his face heat up and a stronger heat rushes south at the look. _No, please, no, not now._ he thinks. 

Something in the back of his mind nags him that he needs to move, to leave and leave now. He may not be as experienced as his cousin, but he’s not naive. He knows what this looks like. What it would imply if someone were to walk in. Still, he opens his mouth with no idea of what to say. Even if it weren’t for Constantin’s grip on him, he’s frozen. 

Constantin leans in even closer until his forehead rests against Alexandre’s own. His blue eyes are dark. Constantin’s breath is hot against his lips.

When Constantin speaks, it’s a whisper, and Alexandre lets out a small gasp when air lightly caresses his lips.

“Will you help me get some sleep, cousin?” Constantin asks softly. His voice is low. It sends a flash through Alexandre. 

“I...I think you’ll be fine in that regard. You’re drunk, Constantin.”

“Not on the wine.” Constantine replies. Again the proximity causes air to ghost over his skin and it takes everything for Alexandre to stay still, whether that be from pushing forward or back, he’s not sure. His hands have found purchase in Constantin’s shirt. He should move them. 

“Constantin…”

Constantin removes his grip. At first Alexandre thinks he will move away and his gut clenches, but to his relief (or fear, he isn’t quite sure anymore) Constantin doesn’t move away. If anything, he presses his forehead harder into Alexandre as his hands move to pull down his outer coat. Alexandre hears it as the heavy coat falls back against the table. The sound is loud in the room. As he hears the garment hit the ground, Alexandre feels his cock twitch.

“Constantin…please…” Alexandre whispers. 

“I would give you everything, you know.” Constantin murmurs, almost to himself. His fingers travel up to Alexandre’s shirt. “Fuck the rest of the world.” Without looking, he easily makes quick work of the top few buttons, slipping his arm to slide against the tanned skin revealed beneath. As hands explore the new territory, Constantin begins to ramble and Alexandre catches his words in spurts.

“I’m not supposed to want this. But dammit, Alex, I do. How could anyone not?....want to touch you…...show you everything you’ve been missing. How have you gone so long without...rest of em must be blind...”

Caught in the spell, Alexandre hasn’t noticed that Constantin’s hand has traveled south until he feels his fingers lightly find purchase over his crotch. With a wounded grown, Alexandre reaches down to wrap his hand around Constantin’s wrist as his cousin starts to palm at the growing bulge in his pants. 

“No, Constantin, stop. Please, you have to stop.”

Constantin lets out a tiny growl and Alexandre’s cock gives another interested twitch at the sound.

“Why not?” Constantin asks as his hand applies more pressure. “Do you not want this?” Constantin uses the hand still on Alexandre’s chin to tilt his head to the side. He begins to pepper kisses on Alexandre’s neck in a way that has made his previous lovers swoon.

“It’s not that, it’s...fuck...will you stop for a moment? We’re cousin’s Constantin.”

Constantin scoffs against his neck.

“Like it matters. It’s not like we can have kids.”

“You’re drunk, Constantin…come morning, you’ll think”

“You’re the one overthinking, Alex. But who am I kidding, it’s one of the things I adore about you.” Constantin chuckles. He moves back to rest his forehead against Alexandre’s. One thumb comes up to trace Alexandre’s lower lip. 

“What you said earlier, about not being perfect. It doesn’t matter what happens. The Bridge Alliance, Theleme, this whole island can rot and you’d still be perfect to me. You’re everything that I’m not. It’s always been us, Alex. The two of us versus this whole damn world.”

With that, Constantin finally closes the space between them to kiss Alexandre fully. It’s sweet, gentle and quick. It’s perfect. It steals Alexandre’s breath away and his heart is pounding. 

It feels like a trickle of water escaping a dam. Alexandre can feel desire building up behind the wall, ready to burst. And he finally decides that he wants it to. Let the whole damn wall come crumbling down.

“Lock the door.” Was it him that just said that?

Constantin’s eyes widen and then he gives Alexandre a teasing smile. Alexandre doesn’t watch as Constantin moves out of his field of view to the door. He sits against the table and stares forward, trying to get a grip on the frantic beating of his heart. 

He should hear the clicking of the locking mechanism, but instead, to his horror, he hears the door open. 

“My deepest apologies, my Lord, I was looking for a copy of…”

It’s the diplomatic affairs advisor. Alexandre doesn’t hear the rest of what the man is asking for in his haste to fasten the buttons of his shirt that Constantin had opened. Thank the Enlightened One that his back was turned to the advisor. 

“Certainly.” he hears Constantin tensely reply. He goes to one of the far shelves to retrieve the paperwork the advisor has asked for. 

When the advisor enters the room, he sees Alexandre.

“De Sardet? A pleasure to see you! I heard word of the ruins you found. Fascinating! I hope you will stop by the office before affairs take you again to share its wonders. To think, we are one step closer to curing the malichor!”

It feels as if a bucket of ice water has been thrown on Alexandre. His throat closes up, but somehow he manages to get words out without stumbling.

“Of course, my lord. It would be wise to get its description in our records.”

“Yes, yes, yes. There you are.” Constantin says as he pushes the asked for paperwork into his hands. “Now if you would excuse us, sir, we have much work to do.” Constantin says. He practically shoves the man out the door. 

“Thank you, have a good night my lor…”

Constantin closes the door in the man’s face and locks it. 

As he turns around, he has a teasing smile on his face. He speaks softly, just in case the advisor still lingers beyond the door. 

“Now, dear cousin, where were we? I believe I was just about to…”

The teasing smile disappears. When he turns, he sees that Alexandre isn’t even looking at him, but instead is frowning at the floor. His eyebrows furrowed. 

He moves forward slowly, as if towards a frightened animal. 

“Something on your mind, cousin?”

Alexandre looks at him. His eyes still furrowed in concentration.

“I want you Constantin.” he says. But his words don’t match the tone. His frown deepens as he says it. 

“And I you,” he says carefully. Constantin feels his heart in his throat. 

“If it were different circumstances,”

And Constantin knows he’s lost him. To think earlier that day he thought his headache was painful. It feels like nothing compared to the splitting feeling in his chest.”

Alexandre continues.

“If it were different circumstances...Shit, I’m already yours in every other way. In another life perhaps, maybe when all of this is done, you would have all of me. But I can’t give you that now.”

The splitting feeling gets worse in his chest. 

“No matter how we see it, they will see it a different way…”

Constantin feels anger rise in him. “Fuck them, Alex, they…”

“I know! They don’t know us. I know. But they will still not see this as we do. And then what will we do? How will we help our families back home?”  
Constantin’s anger dissipates and he feels cold. 

“We have a purpose here, Constantin, a purpose that is greater than either of us. The advisor, he’s right, who knows how close we are now? We can’t afford distractions.”

“Is that what I am? A distraction?”

Alexandre looks at him earnestly.

“Don’t ask me to choose between you and the rest of the world Constantin,” he says, “I couldn’t take it.” 

He knows Alexandre is right. Of course he is. It’s the very traits he loves most about his cousin that start to fix the cracks in the wall they created this night. 

Constantin closes his eyes, rewinding the night in his mind. He tries to remember every detail: The smell of the sweet wine in Alexandre’s breath. The warmth of his skin. The gasp he made when Constantin had nipped a particular spot on his throat. He logs these things away. At least he will have the knowledge that Alex had wanted him too. He wasn’t alone. After a moment, Constantin opens his eyes and sighs. 

“In a different world?” Constantin asks, he offers Alexandre a sad smile. 

Alexandre nods, “In a different world.”


	13. A Merchant, a Naut, and an Inquisitor Walk into a Bar

“Miners are masochists,” Kurt grumbles. “To keep in these tunnels in the dark for days on end, the chance of stone doing you in from any side, soot getting in your eyes, bats, hmph! Not right in the head are they?”

“I’d say you’re the masochist here, Captain. To bring a Naut underground. You’ll have bad luck for a year at least.” Captain Vasco smirks. He is enjoying Kurt’s pain way too much. 

The company had made their way to the mines of Cwalusonei. 

The mines built by unknown hands were expansive. It’s hard to say how long they had moved through its caverns until they had come across a door. 

“Then…” Kurt sarcastically laughs, “then, you’re telling me, we came all this bloody way just to have to go back for a cog?”

Alexandre puts his arm around Kurts shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry my friend, now that we have found our way once, the way back and there again will be much faster. Then it’ll be easy goings from there.”

The company groans. 

“What?” says Alexandre. “What did I say?”

“We have learned, de Sardet, that whenever the words “easy” leave your mouth, we better prepare for the worst.” 

It had been a good three months since the ruin’s discovery that the company finally made their way to the mines.

And as much as Kurt complained, it was more for show than anything else. So much had changed in those two months. And although carved by fire, he was confident that change was for the better. 

They could have made the trip far sooner, but something had shifted the night Alexandre had returned from the governor’s mansion upon their return from díd e kíden nádaigeis. That next morning, Kurt woke up to find the man staring into the fire, wearing his clothes from the previous day.

“Greenblood?” Kurt asked.

Alexandre had looked at him with determination and simply said, “Tell me again what your contacts said about Wenshaganaw.”

Thanks to Alexandre and the rest of his companions, the vile secrets of Wenshaganaw were laid bare. Captain Rolf had been disposed of and who knows how many soldiers were saved from the same fate as Reiner. 

He too had once believed that such training would make him more powerful. The strong survive, the weak perish. Now he knew better. The only weakness to be had was in the minds of men that had to crush others to lift up themselves. 

Weak men like Torsten. May he rest in hell. 

Since then, a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

Kurt turned in the dark caverns of the mine to look at Alexandre. Reiner, Wenshaganaw, Hermann, all of it was done. He could look at his young trainee with fresh eyes. On the surface, Alexandre appeared fine, but something was clearly bothering him. There were tells. One just had to look for them. He started noticing them more and more after the trip back from the camp grounds. 

_“Rolf appeared to know you well. What was he to you? A friend, a rival?”_

_“...he was always picking at me to make sure that he was the best, the strongest, and the most appreciated...I suppose we all have someone like this in our past...Did you not experience that with Constantin?”_

The flinch had been so tiny that Kurt almost missed it. 

_“Constantin was never easy-going, but we were friends more often that we were rivals. I know he could be awful towards other children, but he always had a liking for me.”_

Something was there in between the lines. And after Alexandre had done so much for him, he couldn’t help but try to draw it out. 

_“You were, and I think you still are, his only friend...The court has not been kind to him.”_

His friend’s eyes had gotten a dreamy look about them, a fond memory coming to him. _“It’s true. Did you know that his father told him one day that he would never climb up the ladder if he did not start behaving in a noble way? Constantin took it a bit too literally and decided to climb up the city walls.”_

_“Yes, I wasn’t with you then, but I was told about it. That was the very first time you saved his life. You were very brave that day. And if memory serves, thanks to you, he wasn’t even punished. You really are the friend everyone dreams of having.”_

_“Friend?....Right.”_ Kurt thinks back to the little pauses between Alexandre’s words. He was definitely not mistaking it. There had been something there. _“Thank you, Kurt. That means a lot.”_

That had been the end of the conversation, but Kurt’s observations had just begun. The young man had always been hardworking, but he now threw himself into the lives of his companions and his role as legate with an almost inhuman obsession. Every promise the man had made, he now worked towards completion.

Siora could finally grieve her mother. They had tracked down the Outpost where her body was held. Alexandre had somehow managed to maintain his composure as he argued for the queen’s body while Kurt consoled Siora outside. She was now laid to rest. 

Even Captain Vasco was in good humor these days. Him, the Father, and Alexandre had left one week on a loyalty mission. When they returned, the Captain was sporting a smug face and a new tattoo.

Speaking of Father Peturs, Kurt now knew the man was far more vicious than his “my child”s would suggest. What type of priest had dealings with a guy called Candy Cane. And going after the Mother Cardinal? The old man had balls. 

As all things seemed to right themselves in the world, the dark circles under Alexandre’s eyes grew deeper. 

He knew the signs of a man avoiding something. He was that man himself many times. And so Kurt kept watching the young man he now considered a friend. He wasn’t much for talking. But he’d have his sword at the ready when whatever was bothering the young man came to a head. 

Now to just survive this bloody mine. Gods, it stinks in here.   
_____________________________________

The ruins are magnificent. 

The resemblance to the ruins of díd e kíden nádaigeis is uncanny. 

Alexandre looks around them as the company sits near a ruined wall as cover to rest. They had just defeated a Nadaig. As the rest of the company takes a portion of their food rations, Alexandre takes notes of the creature in his journal. The creature exhibited a trait he had never seen before. To control lightning without any harm to itself? If he hadn’t seen it for himself, he wouldn’t have believed it. Alexandre looks towards its remains. A shame to not be able to take the body back with them. A shame to kill the creature at all.

“Alexandre!” 

Siora and Kurt run back to the rest of the company. They had left to scout nearby.

“Pieces of a journal,” Kurt hands him a piece of parchment paper “we found in a nearby chest.” 

Kurt has a frown on his face. Alexandre takes the paper from him and reads. He looks up to the company and back to the journal again. 

“Well?” prompts Vasco.

“It confirms what we already suspected,” Alexandre responds. “A continental nation had once attempted to colonize the island with the help of the Nauts and they were repulsed. From what I was able to decipher, a few of them actually managed to escape.”

He inspects the journal further. “The major part of the journal has faded, and I’m not able to decipher the name of the author.” He moves to secure the journal in his pack. He motions to their camping spot, “Let’s continue our search, we must discover which nation was here.”

__________________________________

 _It can’t be._ thinks Alexandre when they find the next chest.

But there is no doubting it. The seal within the chest bears the insignia of the Congregation of Merchants. 

His people had been here before. They were the ones that built the ruins. The ones that made a mess of their first interactions with the natives. 

Alexandre was thankful for Siora. 

_I do not judge you guilty of the crimes of your ancestors_  
But not all natives would be as understanding. His job as ambassador just got a lot more difficult. 

_Constantin was going to be furious_  
________________________________________________

They make the journey back to New Serene in silence, all of them, deep in thought. 

Alexandre takes up the rear with Kurt. He can feel the guardsman glance at him every so often.

Kurt has never been good at holding his tongue.

“Bollocks, fine! If you’re not going to say it, I will.”

The outburst is unlike him. Alexandre gives him a questioning look.

“Your mark, Greenblood. Surely it’s crossed your mind.” 

Alexandre frowns. It certainly had. He had always believed that his markings would be a mystery that he would never solve. But surely…

“My mother wouldn’t lie to me.” he replies shortly. 

At that he treks towards the front of the company. He misses the troubled look that flicks across Father Petrus’ face.

___________________________________________________

“Everyone out!” barks Kurt when they return to the meeting hall. 

The men and women crowding the hall look at the Captain in alarm. 

“You heard me!” Kurt repeats. And that’s all it takes to get them moving. This conversation is no place for prying ears. 

Constantin quirks his eyebrow at Alexandre, but doesn’t say anything when Alexandre shakes his head in response. He gets the cue. 

Once the court clears out, he notices Constantin’s shoulders drop a little bit more. He still isn’t looking good. 

“How did things go?” Constantin asks. 

Alexandre looks around. The rest of his company are too busy kicking out lords, ladies, and commonfolk that they might as well be alone. Still, he talks softly, “You don’t look well, what has happened here?” He hopes Constantin will forgive him since it is just them and not the whole court. 

“Nothing!” Constantin responds nonchalantly. “Nothing terribly bad in any case! I must have eaten something that’s having trouble going through me.”

Alexandre frowns. “It seems to me that this illness has been lingering for too long. Who prepares your meals? Are they safe?” The thought makes his heart clench in worry. 

“No one is poisoning me, dear cousin, we are far from father’s court and their customs. It’s nothing...take my word for it.”

Before he can say another word, the room is cleared and the rest of the company moves within earshot. Constantin sits back up and addresses them. 

“Now then, what do you have to tell me?” 

“We made it to the ruins that Lady Morange suggested.” Alexandre pauses and takes a breath. “All our findings point to one conclusion, those ruins were originally built by the Congregation of Merchants.” 

Constantin’s eyes widened in shock. 

“The Congregation? Us? But...Father never once hinted…” Constantin’s mood grows dark. “Once again he must have deemed me unworthy to know the secret! How he must despise me…”

“Constantin…” 

He can’t say anything more, not here. They would once have talked about this alone later, but since THAT night, he dared not be alone with Constantin for long. 

He misses him. And goodness knows, he’s tired, but it is for the best. Necessary.

Constantin tilts his chin up in decisiveness. “We need to learn more. I want to understand, I need to know everything my father has kept from me.”

His gaze softens when he addresses Alexandre directly. “This question also concerns you...You look too much like a native for that to be a coincidence....” Then his tone turns accusatory. “Since we cannot bombard my father with questions, others must give us the answers we require. The Congregation, even in the past could not have made it to this island without help. We are pitiful sailors.”

Captain Vasco scoffs. “You are thinking of us? But I assure you that I know nothing of this story!”

“You are perhaps simply not aware, but your admiral stationed at the captainery surely is.”

Captain Vasco glares downwards.

“Go and find her, cousin.” urges Constantin. “Try to learn the final chapter of this story.”  
_____________________________________ 

The story, as it were, led them to the Ordo Luminis. 

“Utter nonsense.” Captain Vasco grumbles. “I’m no more able to cast curses than Kurt is to dance the tango.”

“Oy! You don’t know what I get up to in my free time, Vasco.”

“He did bring up an interesting point though” poses Alexandre. “None of the Nauts have fallen ill to the malichor. There has to be a reason why…”

Vasco spins in anger, “You can’t be telling me you believe him?!”

Bishop Dominitus, the leader of the Ordo Luminis on the island had all but accused the Nauts of cursing the other nations with the Malichor. They had been sent to San Matheus to sort out the mess in exchange for information on the Congregation and Nauts’ history on the island. They were met with rumors of Naut sorcery and missing person reports from the Commander at the port. 

“Of course not!” Alexandre assures him. “I simply mean there must be a rational explanation.”

The captain gives him a hard look and Alexandre sighs. 

“All of us are in the dark Vasco. Perhaps there is much about your adoptive family that you don’t know as there evidently is about the Congregation that I didn’t know. We’ll work it out. Together.”

_____________________________

The trail led them to Inquisitor Aloysius, the last man Alexandre wanted to see again. The sight alone of the man made his stomach turn. 

The “grand purification of the Nauts” he had said to the coin officer. 

Alexandre had all too much a picture of what purification looks like in the mind of the Inquisitor. 

The man thought himself untouchable. It worked in their favor. The Inquisitor did his dealings in broad daylight and now they knew the location of the missing Nauts. They were being held in the Coin Guard’s barracks under interrogation by the Ordo Luminis.   
______________________________

“We have found your missing men, Commander,” Alexandre reports. “They are being held at the barracks for questioning.”

“Questioning? Whatever for?”

Alexandre pauses. He gives Vasco a look and then chooses his words carefully. “I met the representative of the Ordo Luminis, and he spoke of his fears concerning the Nauts.”

“That hardly surprises me, that man is full of pride and arrogance and sees evil wherever he gazes.”

“That Bishop is not made of milk and kindness, his questions are intriguing. He suspects you to be somehow responsible for the Malichor because you never fall prey to it.”

The Commander lets out a deep bellowing laugh. “Responsible for the Malichor?! But how?”

“Through your magic, some sort of ritual. Do you use magic very similar to that of the natives?”

The Commander bristles at the question. “I have nothing more to say about it. Those are merely the fantasies of a lunatic. You got any more questions or are you going to go help my men that are being tortured as we speak?” He asks with a tone that suggests Alexandre would be pushing his luck to actually ask him anything else. 

Alexandre casts a glance to Vasco who gives him a slight nod of the head. He’s not going to learn any more about the matter here.   
______________________________________

The great purification must be stopped. If only he could find information to absolve the Nauts of these accusations. 

The company has, with Vasco’s assistance, been allowed to enter the Naut warehouse. Alexandre can’t help his fascination at all the foreign gadgets within. The complexity of them! Kurt looks on at the legate and sea captain with an amused smile as the duo pause at each one so that Alexandre can barrage Vasco with questions on their workings. Vasco responds back in time. The Captain doesn’t get as excited as Alexandre, but you can tell where his interests lie. The two always bonded over gadgetry. 

Eventually Kurt’s amused smile turns into a look of pained boredom. He gets a flashback to conversations between the two on the voyage to New Serene. They had lasted ages and they were about guns and inventions that were familiar to Alexandre. How long would this take?! 

With another look at Alexandre, Kurt chides himself. His friend has not been this at ease in a long time. He’ll suffer through it. 

Kurt gives a sigh of relief when after what feels like hours later, they have inspected what must be the entirety of the warehouses. 

Alexandre turns to them. “These instruments are incredible and I would be hard pressed to use them. But I certainly see nothing magic in here. Nor anything diabolical. For as long as they work and are really used, these instruments seem to be the product of science...” he says in wonder. “And I have definitely found nothing related to the Malichor nor a secret sect or cult. This Domitius has let his imagination and the taste of Naut secrets get the best of him!”

“I don’t think you realize the importance of what you have just seen,” says Vasco. “These instruments allow us to dominate the oceans, and discover new worlds. Keeping this secret has enabled us to remain the only ones capable of navigating the high seas.”

Alexandre realizes, “Everyone just thinks you use a magic of your own…”

“We were the ones that spread that rumor. It harms our reputation, but protects us from competition.”

“And the story about the Malichor?” 

“I have no way to explain why we don’t catch it, but we’re not responsible for it.” Vasco looks at them both. “I truly hope you will reveal nothing of what you discovered in this place.”

“Of course, Vasco, we would never. I hope you would know that…” Alexandre turns to look at Kurt and sees that he is of a like mind. 

“Aye, Vasco, this place is already crowded as it is. Wouldn’t want just anyone to be able to boat here.” 

With that the Captain smiles. The trio share a moment of comfortable silence. There isn’t more to be said really. 

“Now to the matter of the Ordo Luminis,” says Alexandre. “We must find out what this great purification is.”  
______________________________________

When they return to New Serene, there are a few less inquisitors in the world. The Mother Cardinal was furious at the Ordo Luminis attack against the Nauts. All members of the order were placed under arrest.

They report back to Admiral Cabral. True to her word, she is willing to talk.

And her words shake the very foundation of everything Alexandre knows. They haunt him all the way to the training yard where Father Petrus finds him. Alexandre had sent Kurt and Vasco on ahead to the house without him. He needed to be alone. They must have told the Father. Father Petrus silently watches as the young man takes out his rage on a poor practice dummy. 

A secret lasting two centuries. The Nauts had discovered the island and brought the Congregation to it long ago. The colonist leaders had angered the natives and their gods with their greed. Their very own people joined in the assault and they were easily defeated. Humiliated, the princes of the Merchant Congregation paid the Nauts to keep their secret. They did for a time, but eventually sold the location to other nations. 

But that isn’t what haunts him now. 

_“They continued to make the occasional expedition...You are in fact a product of one of them.”_

_It can’t possibly be true._

Alexandre gives the dummy a particular good punch. His fists are raw. They give a stab of protest with each hit.

_“You must have had your doubts…”_

Right. Left. Right. Right. Hook. 

_My mother wouldn’t lie to me._

_“I wouldn't know why your family has kept this from you all this time.”_

Uppercut. Left. Right. 

“Liars!”

Left. Left. Left. Right.

_Did Constantin know?_

LEFT!

“Argghhhh!!!”

His knees hit the ground as grief and anger wrack his body. 

“Let him be!” Father Petrus calls to the other men in the yard. He gets varying expressions of curiosity, worry, and annoyance, but the rest go back to their own training, they watch out of the corners of their eyes.

He feels the Father pull him up from behind. 

“Come, my son. This isn’t the place.”  
________________________________________

Alexandre doesn’t remember leaving the training yard, but the next thing he knows, he is in front of his own fireplace. It is the smell of the tea that Father Petrus holds out to him that pulls him from is stupor. 

A warm blanket covers his legs. Siora tucks it around them with a gentle smile before going to sit towards him in front of the fireplace. Kurt stands beside her. He is frowning and his brows are tightly furrowed as he looks into the fire. Captain Vasco stands leaning against the staircase. He too is frowning and cleaning his gun. By the shine of it, he’s been cleaning it for a while. 

Alexandre takes the tea from Father Petrus. The older man then joins him in the unoccupied chair in front of the fire. The look on his face is worried. 

Alexandre looks down at the tea.

His mother would always offer tea first for any ailment. Stomach ache...heartbreak....skinned knees…

Or should he say his adopted mother?

They had even had tea right before he had left for New…

Alexandre gasps. 

The sound causes all of his companions to look towards him tensley. 

He doesn’t move, but he reaches into his pocket.

He pulls out the medallion she gave him right before their voyage. She had said his father had wanted him to have it. 

Now he holds it in front of the fire with new eyes. He examines the markings closely. 

Father Petrus watches him closely.

Alexandre puts the medallion away and takes a sip of tea. 

“I suppose it makes sense, doesn’t it?” he says. 

He looks at Siora with a smile.

“So...I guess that makes us family now?”

She shakes her smile and gives him another gentle smile.

“On ol menawi...Alex...You are my family no matter what.”


	14. Constantin's No Good Very Bad Day

Constantin sits as always, restlessly, on the governor’s chair. When he sees Alexandre, a joyful smile lights up his face. 

It had been too long since he had seen Alexandre. Plus, whenever the two were together these days, it was all business. Understandable given the circumstances. But he would take as much of the man as he was willing to give him. Seeing him now instantly put him in a good mood. 

“Cousin! You couldn’t pick a better time! I’ve been taken with jitters, like a cat on a midday roof!” Constantin gives him a playful smile.

“What are you waiting for with such anticipation?” his cousin wryly laughs. Hm, bad day perhaps? We’ll fix that. 

“I took your advice, you see? I’ve summoned one of these CROWS!” Constantin gestures to a doctor beside the window, his old nemesis. 

In his defense, Constantin never liked doctor’s. Too many bad experiences with being dragged to them as a child. And those were without the ridiculous masks.

“He has been examining me for nearly an hour. I just barely escaped a purge! But I was given the mandatory bleeding...I so hate their little knives.”

Alexandre turns towards the doctor by the window to ask: “And so then, our venerable Doctor, what is the verdict?”

The doctor doesn’t respond, unsurprising, they rarely do. Instead, he holds up a small vial. Inside it is black liquid. 

Constantin’s body runs cold.

“It’s…” Alexandre chokes out, “The blood is black?!”

He turns to look at Constantin to see the look of shock on his face. 

Alexandre rushes forward to grab both of Constantin’s arms.

“Constantin? Is that your blood? Constantin...answer me!”

Constantin feels like he might faint. His ears start to ring. 

“Constantin! Stay with me! Constantin! There is a chance he is in error, it might be something else.”

Alexandre’s beautiful face is much too close. He pushes him away.

“I’m going to die.” 

“No! No, Constantin…” Alexandre whispers. 

Constantin pushes himself out of the chair. The room is spinning and he can’t feel his legs. 

“I will die like your mother, and the others on the continent, I...I am dying!”

He feels a panic attack coming on. 

“I...I don’t want to die! Not so soon! It’s so...Cousin, I don’t want this…”

He turns to Alexandre. He is a life raft in the storm. He reaches out for him. Instantly his cousin is holding on to him, pulling him into his arms. He puts his weight on him. They haven’t hugged like this since the night that he was almost his. Is this his punishment for wanting what he shouldn’t have?

“Constantin, I am here...pull yourself together!”

Alexandre holds him tight in his arms. 

“Out!” Alexandre yells. “Everyone out! It’s an order!”

He closes his eyes tightly. He inhales, trying to pull himself together. Alexandre smells like pine and parchment paper. He focuses on it. 

They stay like that until Constantin feels the panic attack ebb away. He’s not sure how long the room has been empty. He pulls away. Alexandre doesn’t move. 

“Thank you, cousin…”

“There now, are you better?” his cousin asks. His eyes flick back and forth, observing his face. 

“I don’t know...You won’t leave me, will you?”

_Please don’t leave me_

Alexandre...his Alex...has a look of determination on his face. Constantin almost already knows what he is going to say next before he does. 

“I’m going to find a cure...I promise you!”

Constantin shakes his head and turns away from his cousin towards the window.

 _I won’t have you killing yourself over this._

“Didn’t you promise the same thing to your mother?” _It won’t be your fault._ “You know I’ll be dead before you find one.” 

Alexandre turns with him. “Don’t say that! I will succeed. I’ve already some promising trails to explore” he stubbornly replies. 

_It won’t be that easy, dear cousin._

“I don’t know, cousin...the tidings are so awfully dire…” He turns back to his cousin again. When he sees his face, another wave of panic hits him. _I’m going to lose you._ “I’m afraid...So afraid!”

He grips his fists. He wants nothing more than to pull Alexandre towards him, to pull his mouth against his own. It’s not fair that he only got a taste of it before he’s going to die. He pats his cousin on both shoulders and holds him at arm's length. It would be so easy to pull him in. 

But as much as he’s tempted, he won’t go against Alexandre’s wishes, even with this. He keeps his cousin at arms length. He changes the subject before he loses control of himself. 

“I...I doubt the reason for your visit was to console me in my tragedy. Tell me what brings you here?...”

Alexandre gives him a sad look. “It can wait…” he replies, “it is nothing that cannot be dealt with later…”

 _No, Alex, I need you to._ “But please...please. Whatever it is it will take my mind elsewhere.”

Alexandre sighs and presses on, “I was able to get the whole story out of the admiral in exchange for a service.” He licks his lips. “As our investigation was leading us to imagine, the Congregation did once attempt to colonize the island. The Nauts discovered it some two centuries ago, and brought our people here a few decades later. But the enterprise to colonize the island failed completely; there were a great many bloody battles. Few colonists survived. The princes preferred to hide their defeat and paid the Nauts to keep the secret.”

“That they hid the fiasco from the world I get, but that my father said nothing about it to me…”

 _What would you say if you were here, father_ he thinks pitifully. How happy would he be to send a more adequate governor to take his stead?

Alexandre takes a breath. Apparently there’s more. 

“That’s not the most shocking part of the story, believe me.”

“What do you mean?” asks Constantin. What could be worse than the lie he just revealed?

“The Congregation continued to make expeditions to the island with the help of the Nauts.” He looks off to the side, uncomfortable. “According to the admiral,” he takes a deep breath, “my mother came from the island and was brought back. I was born on one of their ships…”

Constantin’s eyes widened.

“What? But...That means you are not…”

“Your dear cousin?” Alexandre responds bitterly. “No. All the lies that we’ve been fed since our tender childhood…”

 _In a different world_ Alexandre’s previous words echo in his head. He starts to play out a dozen different scenarios in his mind. But no...it’s too late for that. They could not just spill the Congregation’s dark secret without causing chaos. Even if they could somehow safely announce Alexandre’s ancestry, the relationship would still be looked down upon. They were raised as cousins after all. There would be doubt that they had waited until after they knew. Beyond that, the world wouldn’t accept a relationship between royalty and an island native. And finally there was an expectation to raise an heir. His father would be furious.

_There will be no heir. You’re about to die anyways._

Suppose they told everyone to sod off? What would happen to Alexandre after the malichor took his life? Without his royal blood, the vultures would rip Alexandre apart afterwards. They wouldn’t let a native inherit the throne.

These thoughts, several lifetimes, quickly flick through Constantin’s mind as Alexandre continues.

“...The fable that I am the spitting image of my dead father, lost during an expedition....I...I don’t know what to think, Constantin. Why did they do that to me?”

His heart aches for him.

“I don’t know...It’s another one of their sly and dark orchestrations...some vile intrigue.”

 _In a different world._ This one could rot in hell for all he cared. Time and time again it went for their throats. His, he could understand, but Alex? He didn’t deserve this. And so Constantin resolved himself. He would be there for Alexandre during his last days. He would go down fighting to leave him happy, to make sure he was safe. They may not be family by blood, but as far as he was concerned, Alex was the only true family he had. 

“If it is of some comfort, no matter the true story, you will always be my dear cousin. You have always been the only one to care for me. You are my only friend, that’s all that matters to me. Keep this discovery between us. No one needs to know, my Aunt adopted you after all.”

Alexandre gives him a look of understanding and he nods. 

“Bring in the others,” Constantin says, “let us speak of different concerns. That’s enough bad news for one day.”

He returns to his seat in preparation. The line of needy citizens and ambassadors was surely piling up behind the door.   
______________________________________________

Alexandre opens the door allowing the guards back in. Surprisingly, no one else waits behind the door.

At least they will get a moment to breathe.

Then they hear a clamour down the stairway. Siora, Captain Vasco, and Father Petrus rush in and close the door behind them. 

“Alexandre!” Vasco calls, “The Coin Guard is…”

The door bursts open behind them. Kurt enters the meeting hall. He is wearing full armor. 

At his entry, Vasco falls silent. He looks at Kurt with wary eyes. Siora has a pleading look in hers. 

_Enlightened one! What is going on now?_

Kurt looks back at the guards lining the far wall. 

“Dismissed, soldiers!” he barks. “Leave us, we have much to say.”

“What is going on?” asks Constantin. “I don’t appreciate this attitude, Kurt. Must I remind you that these men all answer to me?”

Kurt walks closer, far closer to a prince than is appropriate, especially with a hand on his sword. Despite the trust he has in the captain, Alexandre finds his own hand reaching for his sword. What is Kurt doing?

“Times change, your Highness. Or rather, they are about to do so…”

Constantin jumps out of his chair for the second time that day, this time in anger. 

“Is that a threat? What are you hoping to accomplish? Don’t tell me…”

“Silence!” orders Kurt. “We have little time and none to lose.” 

“Kurt, what are you talking about?” Alexandre asks.

“The commander of the Coin Guard is here in New Serene at this very moment. He is preparing a coup d’etat.” 

_For the love of...haven’t they had enough for one day?_

Kurt goes on. “In the three cities of the island our men are going to eliminate the governors and their entourage.”

“This is madness!” breathes Constantin. “How…”

“How? You’ll go down as easy as plum pie and cherry wine! Standing behind every one of you is one of our men. You have entrusted us with your security. You are completely at our mercy.”

Captain Vasco takes a step forward and Siora grabs his arm to keep him from charging Kurt.

“Then why did you send your men away? And why are you telling us all of this?”

Kurt looks between Constantin and Alexandre. 

“I’ve known you both for a very long time. Too long. I’ve come to know you, to respect you. And I’ve never reneged on a contract. These orders go against all that I am. A cold-hearted mercenary, definitely, but never a traitor.” The older man gives them an apologetic look. “And so you are forewarned. You must take action.”

“Getting soft, captain?” Captain Vasco says. 

Kurt turns towards the other companions. Vasco and Siora are smiling at him.

He lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Maybe I just didn’t like the idea of hanging a Naut. The whole of New Serene would smell like rotting fish for days.”

The sea captain lets out a bellowing laugh. 

Kurt looks at Siora.

“I’m sorry, she-wolf.” he says.

“You are a good man, Kurt.” Siora responds.

“Thank you, Kurt. I will not forget this.” Alexandre says. He then turns to Constantin. They need to move. 

“Constantin, we need to get you to safety as well as your councilors.”

“But I want to…”

_Like hell you will._

“What? Take part? You can barely stand up. No we must take you into the cellar.”

Father Petrus asks Kurt, “If I’ve completely understood what you said, Kurt, the governors of our cities are also in danger.”

“Yes. If you want to keep your allies, your Highness, you will also need to warn them.”

“Correct,” Constantin agrees. “We cannot let them fall into the hands of these traitors!”

“I will find the means to send them a messenger. Do you know where your conspirators are?”

Kurt nods bitterly. “It would seem, I should be one of them. They are counting on me to eliminate both of you. The most urgent matter is to get our hands on the commander and his three lieutenants. The others are doing nothing but following orders. If we cut off the heads, they will fall into rank.”

Constantin lets out a breath of anxious air “I always knew you were...a good man.” 

“Don’t make me change my mind. We had better be off. Now!”

“We’ll certainly have to fight some traitors at Torsten’s behest on our way to the cellar, stay on your guard!”

Alexandre nods. This will be the last time Commander Torsten would cause such pain, he would make sure of it. But first, he had to get Constantin out of here.

“Stay behind us Constantin, you are in no condition to fight.”  
_______________________________________________

His life may be in danger, but Constantin can’t help but be impressed by his cousin’s fighting skills. The trips across the island had dramatically improved his abilities. Alexandre’s skill coupled with that of his companions made for an unstoppable force. 

They fight their way to the cellar, now joined by Mr de Courcillon and the minister of affairs. 

Alexandre was right, he was in no condition to fight. All he could do was watch helplessly from the sidelines. Alexandre’s companions made quick work of the coin traitors while his cousin took up a defensive position in front of him. He cut down any that attempted to come at Constantin. 

Once in the cellar, Alexandre’s companions get right to making sure it will remain secure. They prepare a blockade to be put in place behind them, in case any of the guards find the cellar. While they do so, Alexandre checks on Constantin. He looks him up and down.

“Are you alright?” he worries. 

“You’re the one covered in blood, cousin. I’m fine.”

Alexandre gives him a stern look.

“Constantin, promise me that you will stay here until we secure the city.”

_This is my city. I should be out there. Taking it back. Useless!_ He knows Alexandre won’t let him fight. 

“Do I even have a choice? Here I am consigned to my quarters like some broken old maid…” 

“Like someone ill, Constantin.” Alexandre implores. He pauses and then adds: “Someone sick who is dear to me, and the city wouldn’t survive your loss.”

He has an earnest look in his eyes. They plead with Constantin to stay.

Constantin sighs, “You have such a way with words. Very well, I promise to stay here, obediently awaiting your return…”

Alexandre nods and then addresses his company, “Let’s go then.”

The rest of the company heads out the door when Constantin grabs Alexandre’s arm.

“Cousin? Watch out for yourself!” He looks at him, trying to communicate everything he feels in his words. “You are dear to me as well.”

Alexandre’s mouth parts as if to say something, but then he closes it and just nods, making to leave again. 

He is almost out the door when he pauses again. 

Constantin hears him whisper under his breath.

“Fuck it.” he grits and then turns back around and strides back to Constantin. Constantin thinks he is going to hug him, when Alexandre grabs him behind his neck and pulls him into a crushing kiss. 

This one is nothing like the one Constantin instigated in the study. Where that was was soft, quick, questioning, this one is consuming and confident. Alexandre presses their mouths together as if he were intent on imprinting himself on Constantin. After a moment of initial shock, Constantin lets out a moan and reciprocates. He pushes back into the kiss and wraps his arms around Alexandre, pulling him somehow even closer. 

When Alexandre releases him, he pushes their foreheads together. After a moment of catching their breath, Alexandre gives him that same earnest look.

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid!” he growls. He then moves away and is out the door before Constantin can say or think anything else. 

The last few minutes a whirlwind, Constantin can do little else but reach up and touch his own lips. Already they feel sore. 

The room is now terribly silent compared to the last hour. The noise of fighting is an echo and now comes the hard part of waiting out the night in hiding with his advisors. 

_Oh, crap._

Constantin freezes. He forces himself to turn around. 

Mr. de Courcillon and the advisor are staring at him with shock. Mr. de Courcillon’s jaw could hit the floor. 

Constantin clears his throat. 

“Ahem, um, yes...well. I’ll just be over here then.”

It’s going to be a long night.


	15. The Teacher and the Healer

Kurt was right. They cut off the head and the rest of the coin guard laid down their weapons without a fight. To think, they had almost missed their opportunity. They apprehended Torsten at the harbor. If he had made it on that ship, they would have lost him. The man would have thrown the island into utter chaos. 

But that didn’t happen. The snake and his conspirators would rot in jail. He deserved far worse, but thankfully that was not Alexandre’s decision. He almost regrets not killing the man when he had fallen to the ground. He’d have to stay away from the prison until the man was relocated back to Gacane to face trial for treason. 

Right after they had tossed Torsten in jail, they made haste for San Matheus and Hikmet. If the messengers had not made it, the cities would be in dire straits. Thanks to Kurt’s forewarning, the messengers had time to get there safely. The Mother Cardinal and Governor Burhan were beyond grateful. It hit Alexandre the second day on the road back home that this awful scenario had a silver lining. The two cities now owe them a tremendous debt. Constantin’s efforts to establish New Serene just gained a major foothold on the island. 

_Constantin…_

Alexandre hated to leave him as things were. 

He had had no choice but to leave instantly for the allied cities. They didn’t have any time to lose. He hadn’t seen his cousin since he left him in the cellar. He had word from New Serene that him and his advisors were still safe. 

It ached Alexandre to leave his cousin. The last couple of weeks had been a blur. Their private conversation of the malichor and Alexandre’s true heritage seemed both seconds and a lifetime ago. 

Now, they were a day away from New Serene. 

_You had better have kept your promise and be there, Constantin._ Alexandre thinks. 

To his apprehension, he knows that the real battle has only just begun.   
________________________________________

Constantin sits in the governor’s seat. He rests his chin in his hand, as his arm rests propped against the arm of the chair. It’s quiet. No one will come to court today, not with any gossip of the coins guard attack still looming. He’ll be alone for a while. 

It gives Constantin plenty of time to think. 

It's the worst kind of torture. 

He actually tries NOT to think, but then his legs start to prickle. They constantly feel as if they are asleep, little needles under the skin, despite how much he massages them. Then he thinks of Lady Laurent’s boy and his crutches. They were specially made for him. Little flowers and lions artfully carved into the wood. The boy had died of the malichor a few weeks later. He thinks of the funeral and Lady Laurent sobbing into Lady de Sardet’s arms. His aunt had been healthy at the time. It wasn’t long after that the malichor claimed her too. He thinks of the horrid marks it left on her once beautiful face. 

Then he thinks of his Alex who is no longer his cousin and who he now knows has very soft lips. 

He thinks of how he may never be able to kiss him again. 

He chides himself for thinking this way. Alexandre will return and he will still be alive. The malichor wouldn’t take him that quickly....would it?

Then his legs start to prickle again and the self-deprecating cycle starts all over. 

“You will see him again.”

Constantin starts and looks to his right. 

Not so alone then. 

Mr de Courcillon, it appears, has never left the court. How long has he been standing there, waiting patiently?

Constantin doesn’t say anything. He’ll be honest. He’s been avoiding his old teacher ever since the man witnessed the kiss between Alexandre and himself in the cellar. Which was a feat itself considering he was locked in the cellar with him for hours. He knew this was coming at some point or another. He tenses up and braces himself. 

De Courcillon sighs. 

“So are we just going to ignore that you’re in love with him then?”

Constantin winces. 

The teacher sighs again.

“Constantin...he’s your cousin.”

Constantin glares at the ground as his face burns. 

_Ex-cousin_ he thinks. But he can’t say that. It’s not his information to give. 

When he looks at the man, he sees the look of pity and instantly regrets it, he turns back to glare at the ground again. 

“How long?”

“What?” he replies weakly.

“How long has this been going on?”

Constantin laughs dryly and shakes his head. 

“There hasn’t been anything going on.”

“Constantin, do not lie to me.”

“I’m not lying!” he yells. The noise of his own voice rings in his ears and sends a stab of pain through his head. He groans and puts his head in his hands.

The older man steps to move forward, but then thinks better of it and gives him a moment. When his ears stop ringing Constantin, continues, “To your relief and my disappointment, my lord, what you saw in the cellar was that whole of it.”

The man gives no response.

Constantin sighs, “I suppose…I suppose you will be telling my father.”

“My dear boy, do you truly, after all these years, not know me at all?” 

Constantin looks at de Courcillon again. The man looks at him with frustration, but also a measure of compassion. 

“I’ve done this for a long time. You think yours is the first royal relationship I’ve had to hide? Do I agree with it? No. I’ve never seen these things end well. To be frank, my lord, I think this is one of the most idiotic things you could have ever have do, if it were to continue...”

Constantin winces again and opens his mouth to retort, but the man holds up his hand. 

“Let me finish. Do I think this is a mistake? Yes. But I have cared for the two of you as if you were my own. You think I wish either of you to suffer?”

“So….so what are you saying exactly?”

“I’m saying, Constantin, that what occurred that night, whatever may have happened before, is between you and Alexandre. You will hear no more of it after this conversation from me, unless you wish to discuss it, that is. As your advisor, I would suggest that you be careful,” he pauses, “And...and as someone I hope that you trust, I just want to make sure that you don’t do anything that you’d one day regret.”

Constantin scoffs, but then sighs when he sees the look of hurt flash on his old teachers face at his response. 

“I’m sorry, my lord...I appreciate your kindness...and your discretion. You have always been so good to me and Alex. I did not intend to disregard your intentions, I just couldn’t help but wonder that this conversation is rather pointless.”

The older man frowns. “How do you mean?”

“I mean,” Constantin throws his hands up in frustration, “I mean you talk as if this is some affair that is going to continue!”

A look of surprise flashes on Mr de Courcillon’s face. “Is it not?” he asks. 

Constantin laughs in disbelief. 

“I’m DYING, my lord!”

The air instantly tenses. The older man’s brows furrow in thought and then a look of panic flashes on his face when he makes the connection..

“The malichor?” he gravely asks. 

“Seems like everything I do is wrong isn’t it? Even my body can’t do what it's supposed to.” Constantin bitterly says. 

“Constantin...I’m so sorry.”

….

“Who all knows?”

“As of right now, assuming that those crows actually never speak, you, Alex, and his companions.”

“I see…”

….

“Lord de Sardet had a promising lead it seems…”

“Don’t!” Constantin orders. The man falls silent. 

Constantin sighs. “I’m coming to terms with it, ok. I’m going to tell Lady de Morange tomorrow. She’ll find a suitable replacement for when I....for when things change.”

Mr de Courcillon looks extremely worried, but he nods his head. “Of course, my lord.”

“And Sir de Courcillon?”

“...Yes?”

“Will you look after him? Alex? Make sure he doesn’t work himself to death?”

The man gives him a sad smile. “Of course, Constantin”

Constantin gives him a smile and huffs, “I’ve never been easy to deal with, have I? Ever since I was born, I’ve been causing you trouble. I truly am sor…”

“I wouldn’t change a minute of it,” de Courcillon interrupts. 

“Hmm.” Constantin smiles. Then he clears his throat and straightens in his chair. “Will that be all, my lord?”

Mr. de Courcillon smiles and gives him a pretend serious nod. “Yes. I will leave you to it then.”

De Courcillon leaves for the door that leads to his office. He pauses at the door before thoughtfully turning back to Constantin.

“If I may, my lord? I know what I said earlier, but perhaps, given the circumstances, if one were careful, it would be more prudent to spend one’s last days on earth doing what he loves...or should I say, doing who he loves.” The older man smirks at him and then leaves.

Constantin’s jaw could hit the floor. 

_Did I just get permission from my old teacher to fuck my ex-cousin?_

He didn’t even think it was possible for the man to make a dirty joke. 

You learn the darndest things when you’re about to die. 

Maybe the malichor wouldn’t ravage his body before he saw Alex again.   
_______________________________________

Alexandre gasps when he sees him.

In just the few weeks it took to tie up any loose ends from the coup in San Matheus and Hikmet, his cousin’s condition had grown far worse. Veins darkened by infected blood stood out harshly against his pale skin and sores covered his face. The malichor had already started to claim his sight. His eyes were no longer the silver-blue that Alexandre knew. They were clouded. Could he even see?

“Constantin?” he gently asks. “How are you feeling?”

“Death is on my doorstep and all hope has flown through the window.” Constantin dramatically replies. Eloquent as ever. 

He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Hmm, it was a joke Alex,” Constantin beckons to him. “Come closer...what ill tidings do you bring?”

Frowning, Alexandre somehow manages to maintain his composure. “Yes, I thought you would like to know that the Coin Guards attempt to take control of the island has failed…”

Damn them. Damn them all. If they hadn’t rebelled, he could have been looking for a cure by now. 

Constantin lets out a breath of relief. “This is excellent news, the kind I’ve not had in a great while.” He turns to Kurt. “Thank you Kurt, if it were not for your loyalty...we were lost. As for you my dear cousin...you know what I owe you!”

_You don’t owe me anything._

“Not only have you looked out for me, like always, but you have protected my advisors.”

“Yes,” agrees Father Petrus, “And if your highness would permit, I would like to relay our most sincere gratitude from all of Theleme. Thanks to your message, the Mother Cardinal was able to thwart the commander’s plans. By the grace of the illuminated, the city is saved and the traitors punished as they should be.”

Constantin nods. “I was told that you were able to catch the Commander before he got away?”

“Barely,” Alexandre replies “but alas, some of his lieutenants managed to escape.”

“I care little for the underlings, the Commander will pay for all of them.” Constantin says with spite. “Do you happen to know the punishment we practice for treason? Oh, yes, I remember now…Enough talk of ruffians! They failed! And for that, I again thank Kurt.”

“If your highness is looking for a means to translate his gratitude, gold is a present that is always appreciated…” Alexandre looks at his friend. It’s hard to tell if he is joking or serious. 

Constantin looks at Kurt with an air of appreciation. Kurt’s attitude was probably a welcome change of pace to everyone else tiptoeing around the young prince’s fatal diagnosis. 

“I imagine that you shall name a new commander?” he asks Kurt. 

“Yes. I will discuss the matter with loyalist officers, but I think I know who will be elected…”

“I hope it is someone whom we can trust...We do need soldiers, but loyal soldiers above all.” 

“We are well aware that the Guard’s reputation has been tarnished…We will not make the same mistake twice. Sieglinde is solid and loyal. I have fought beside her.”

“You have my complete trust, Kurt. You have amply earned it.”

Kurt gives a bowing nod. Constantin turns back to Alexandre. 

“Before you leave, I must ask something of you.” 

_Anything, Constantin._

“Alright, I’m listening.”

“I’m always suffering, cousin. I’m in such terrible pain, and we’re yet to discover a cure.”

Alexandre feels his heart clench. For Constantin to say this out loud, the pain must be horrible. 

“I’m sorry,” _Just hold on Constantin, just a little more!_ “I fully intend to continue my research. We have a number of leads, but with all that’s been happening…”

“Don’t blame yourself. I know how much you do for me. Yet I’m afraid that before the sickness claims me, the pain will have driven me mad. If only there were a way to ease it…”

Siora steps forward with a pitying look. “I know a healer with powers that are legendary amongst the clans. It is rumoured he can alleviate even the most terrible pains.” She turns to address Alexandre. “His village is west of the city, I could take you there.”

“One of our holy men lives in Saint Matheus. His healing powers are supposedly miraculous. Alas, it’s a miracle we’re in need of my son,” says Father Petrus. 

Captain Vasco also chimes in, “I’m nothing more than a sailor. I don’t have much to offer when it comes to healing. As it would seem, Theleme are prey for the Malichor just like the Bridge Alliance. Perhaps it would be best to ask for aid from those not suffering from the plague.” He offers the father an apologetic look. 

“The sailor’s right,” agrees Kurt. “The holy men and the sages had their chance on the continent, and we all know how that went.”

“Thank you as always for your advice.” Constantin looks between his companions. Too bad the lot of them hadn’t met years before, when less responsibility fell on their shoulders.

“Cousin,” says Constantin, “you’re the only one I trust, so please, don’t let me lose my mind.”

_I would sooner lose mine first._

“I’ll follow the leads and find a way. I won’t let you down. Hold on! I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

That’s all Constantin needs to do. Hold on. Just a few days more. 

They’ll be the most terrifying days of Alexandre’s life, he’s sure.   
_____________________________________________

Siora leads them to the village of Wenshaveye in the land of Wenshaganaw, “The Singing Waters.” He’ll never grow tired at the poetic meanings behind native words. This is the supposed dwelling of the famed healer. 

As soon as he enters the healer’s hut, he is greeted by a man with a painted face. Well...greeting would be putting it lightly. 

“Kwe es si? Get out!” 

The man shoves him and then gets in his personal space. Like Siora, he has what appear to be branches that mold into his hair. 

“Who do you think you are to defile our ritual? One of those Mind shakers, no doubt?”

“Aidan, it is your duty to assure we are not interrupted.” 

A man in ornate dress approaches them. He wears a skull as a headpiece. It appears to be from some sort of reptile, it resembles the tortoises from Gacane. He has a wise face, Alexandre thinks. 

Scolded, the young man...Aidan...responds, “A thousand pardons, tiern, it is indeed one of those Mind shakers.” 

The doneigad looks at the company inquisitively. He gently pushes Aidan out of the way to let him get closer. 

“A Mind shaker? Look at him more closely, Aidan, he is on ol menawi.” The man walks closer. “Present yourself, and tell me why you interrupt our ceremony?”

“My name is De Sardet. I have come looking for you to ask for your help.” Alexandre turns to Siora for aid. Constantin’s life depended on this going well. 

“I greet you, doneigad, we are so sorry to have interrupted your ritual, but my friend truly needs your advice.”

“Don’t excuse yourself. Are you the daughter of Bladnid? Are you not a doneigad as well?”

“It is true,” Siora answers, “but my powers of healing are far less powerful than your own.” 

“Then, how can I help you?”

Alexandre tries to keep himself from appearing too eager. “My cousin suffers from a terrible sickness, the Malichor.”

“I do not know this sickness...But perhaps we call it by a different name.” the doneigad says thoughtfully. 

“It turns the blood black and provokes terrible suffering, and alas, it is fatal in all cases.”

“I’ve never seen the ailing touched by such a sickness, and I doubt I am able to heal your cousin.”

“We are looking for a remedy, but urgently need to relieve his pain. Could you slow the progression of the sickness? Keep him from suffering?”

“In that, I can help you. I know how to make one forget the pain, even the most severely wounded.”

Hope lights in Alexandre. For once could something go in their favor?

“But tiern, with all that is happening now you cannot leave to visit this ill person!” whines Aidan. Alexandre grinds his teeth. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“It is true, my village needs me now, I cannot leave and must attend them.” The man apologizes. 

“What is going on? Perhaps we can help you?” He will not go back empty handed. He will not.

The younger native looks him up and down. “Truly? You?”

“Do they have a choice, Aidan? They do really seem to have need of me, don’t they?”

_No, we don’t_

Alexandre looks between them with determination. 

“Well then, tell us what we need to do.”   
____________________________________________

The village had two problems. First, tenlans, a creature whose claws and teeth Alexandre would become very acquainted with, were suddenly attacking any villagers they came across. According to Aidan and the chief hunter of the village, this was against their nature. They had nested close to the village without issue for years. The hunter had charged him with destroying nests in problem areas so that villagers could once again forage for herbs and food in peace. Aidan wanted them to find the bodies of missing villagers. He suspected they were victims of the attacks.

Second, the Wenshaganaw were losing just as many villagers to Theleme as they were to the beasts. The missionaries used fear of tenlan attack to their advantage and offered protection...in return for conversion. Alexandre doubted the god of light would want converts purely out of fear, but the missionary mother was not of the same mind. It was clear they wouldn’t rest until every last one of them had converted.

Alexandre could do little to make the missionaries leave. He couldn’t charge them with being incessantly annoying to the village after all. Perhaps if they took care of the attacks, the missionaries would lose the leverage of fear based conversions. 

They tracked the tenlan attacks to a cave. Alexandre only had to think it was eerily quiet before they were surrounded by the creatures. Among them, out of one great burrow, the great white tenlan the hunter spoke of emerged. It was odd. The creature was obviously the product of a mutation. In most animal groups, such a unique mutant would be driven out by the others at an early age; a cruel, but effective manner of mother nature keeping itself healthy. And yet, as the other tenlans circled them, looking for any sign of weakness, it was only when the white tenlan gave out a loud cry that the rest of the beasts pounced. 

Somehow, they survived. It didn’t take long for them to find the bodies after that. 

“Oye, Greenblood!” Kurt calls to him. The man hands him a journal. 

“What is it?” Siora asks from the corner wall. She is wrapping Vasco’s arm with a bandage. 

“Oh, just Theleme being right cunts again, she-wolf.” replies Kurt. 

Alexandre opens it and skims its pages. “Fucking, brilliant,” he sarcastically says when he finishes it. 

____________________________

“Do you take me for a fool! We found the journal detailing your vicious plan!” Alexandre hisses in anger. The white Tenlan was purposefully planted by the missionaries to stir up the other tenlans. Would these people stop at nothing to make everyone else like them? His mind thinks back to the burning pyre in the city of San Matheus itself. Of course they wouldn’t, they’d burn the whole world, even if it killed themselves in the process. The idiots. 

_“Their words are always sweet, but all they bring is death._ Siora had said in the caves. Yet again, she was right about them. 

He wonders if his mother had never gotten on the Naut ship, if he had been born on the island, would they have killed him by now too?

“I only have one piece of advice to give you. LEAVE, and quickly, or the Mother Cardinal will learn every detail of your manipulation.”

His hand moves to his gun and he sees the missionary mother’s eyes follow it. 

“We shall be leaving as soon as possible…” she resigns, “But let it be known that you are abandoning all of these poor souls to damnation!” 

Unbelievable.

“Perhaps you should be more concerned about your own soul sister. People have died by your fault.”

They don’t return to the village until Alexandre is sure that every last missionary has left. They watch them leave the camp. Alexandre is of the mind to burn the camp down so that they are not tempted to return. 

When the missionaries move beyond their sight, he lets out a sigh of relief. “The nests are destroyed and with the death of the white Tenlan, the attacks should cease. With the missionaries gone, Catasach should be willing to follow us.”

He hopes Constantin’s suffering hasn’t grown too much worse.   
_______________________________________

His body is burning. 

Constantin holds the edge of his chair in a vice like grip. He grinds his teeth and doubles over. 

Sir de Courcillon, Father Petrus, and his chief physician alone remain with him. The rest of Alexandre’s company had left to find the native healer, but the bishop remained to look after the young governor. They bring him water and food and then eventually just water as Constantin can’t keep anything else down. 

He has heard of the last stages of the malichor being awful, but one can’t quite describe real pain until they’ve experienced it. 

It is everywhere.

With every beat of his heart, the diseased blood scrapes through his veins. It carves him from the inside. His limbs jerk without consent, protesting the infection.

_Drain it out. Drain it out. Drain it out._

If only it were that simple.

“The pain...It’ll be the death of me!”

The doctor circles him wordlessly. He watches him as if he’s some experiment. 

“I can’t control my body. It’s like being a stranger in a marionette set ablaze, consumed by a smoldering fire,” he gasps. “The moment’s growing near, isn’t it? Am I about to surrender my ghost...to the Reaper of Souls?” 

_I’m sorry, Alex. I know what I said, but maybe it would be better to die._

As if his cousin read his mind, the door is flung open and Alexandre and the others enter the room. Well...he assumes it is them. They appear as blurs now. His vision has failed him.

“You pop in just when you’re needed, cousin, as always.”

They are joined by a shadow in colors he doesn’t recognize. Alexandre moves to the side to let a strange man pass to him. He moves right into his space. As he gets closer, Constantin panics. It’s not a man, but a monster! In place of a man’s face is a chiseled beak. He can barely make out two black, soulless eyes. The creature puts his hand on his head. Constantin hisses in response. It’s freezing. 

“Who...who are you? Your hand is cold as ice…”

“You’re cousin is burning.” The creature turns to his cousin. 

He doesn’t care if Alexandre has brought in a demon of some construct. The touch against his skin is a balm. 

“That is such a relief,” he moans.

“Let me present Catasach, Constantin. He is the greatest healer on the island. He will help you.”

Alexandre had moved very close to him. He could almost make out his face now. He reaches out to trace the mark he knows is on his cousin’s right cheek. Alex had always been embarrassed by it as a child. He couldn’t imagine him without it. 

“Please...stay…”

“I am here for you, renaigse,” the creature called Catasach responds. “And I will not leave until I’ve found a way to ease your pain and suffering.” He feels a cooling touch on the back of his neck and moans at the contact. “Fill your mind with the patience of the ocean.”

He hears murmuring between his cousin and the creature. His eyes grow heavy.

“Thank you.” 

He can almost hear the waves when he passes out.


	16. A Kindred Spirit

“Thank you, Catasach, for coming.”

Alexandre and Catasach talk softly as Constantin finally sleeps. The older man is unpacking various plants and tools from his pack on a nearby table. 

“I must admit, I am intrigued by this disease. I have never seen anything like it.”

“Can you give him help...for the pain?”

“Hm,” the man scans the plants on the table. “Yes, this disease is in the blood? Perhaps…” he trails off. He starts to crush a plant with compound leaves in a mortar. 

Alexandre watches him with curiosity. 

“What will that do?”

“It will thin the blood, for a time. Easing its course may help the pain.”

“And these two?”

“That one will relax the muscles. The other puts one to sleep. He will need rest. You have an interest?”

Alexandre blushes slightly. “I...like learning about such things. Even on Gacane, there is still so much about the world that we don’t know. There is something about the journey to knowing...I don’t know how to explain, really.”

“Life is a journey, not a destination. You would make for a good doneigad, on ol menawi.”

“I...thank you...The Bridge Alliance believes there may be a plant here that could heal the disease.”

“Hmm...it is always possible. Do you know what the lions have tried?”

“No. Their governor said that the expedition went missing. It has been some time. The chances of them being alive…”

“Where did they go?”

“The valley, Magasvar.”

Catasach’s face darkens. “A cursed and sacred place. The Doneia Egsregaw and Black Ulgs reside there. They would be...unwelcome. But there may be plants there that I do not know. The lions...they could have talked to us about the plants that they had collected. It would have made their search easier.”

“Yeah...you may have noticed, but talking hasn’t...exactly...been our strong suit.”

The old healer chuckles under his breath. “True, on ol menawi, true.”

Alexandre looks at Constantin’s resting face, deep in thought. 

“What do you know about the people that live there? I’ve heard a little of the doneia egsregaw.”

“The doneia egsregaw believe that your kind is a disease on the land.” Catasach frowns. It is clear he isn’t fond of the native rebels. “They would wish for us all to fight until all renaigse were dead. But for every dead renaigse, another one takes its place, each one more angry than the last. They would not hesitate to attack these....scholar lions...even if they were of a peaceful mind.”

“So avoid them if possible...got it.”

“The people there are also called the Black Ulgs. They are odd....There are many rumors about them. They keep to themselves. I cannot tell you much more beyond rumors...which are...rude.”

Constantin gasps in his sleep. Alexandre’s brows furrow.

“Would you be able to mark a map with all you know, the camps to avoid, key landmarks?”

“Yes. You are going?”

“I told the governor of Hikmet that I would help find his scholars. Now that things are settled here, I can’t pass up the chance that they were on to something. What would you need from the plants there, to see if any of them would work?”

“A piece of each part, the whole plant if you can. Do not forget to bring out the roots.”

Alexandre kneels before Constantin’s bed. 

“I will be back, cousin. I leave you in good hands.” He leans forward to plant a kiss on Constantin’s forehead.

“You are a good man, on ol menawi. I will do my best.”

________________________________________

“The valley is vast. Catasach marked an area here. It would give us a good vantage point.”

They had so far managed to avoid any altercations in the valley by carefully skirting around tenlan, andrig, and black ulg herds. Thankfully, they hadn’t come across any natives yet. 

Catasach’s map helped them weave the mountain walls bordering the valley. It seemed that the Bridge Alliance scholars had the same idea. They found a camp in an open clearing as they journeyed higher up. Bordered by rocks and open on several sides, the scholars could easily have been hit by ill-willed natives or beasts without seeing them coming.

Kurt shares his thinking, “A camp, here? In the open wind? It was definitely set up by scholars.”

Spears litter the tents and ground, but there are no bodies. Roots, like the kind he’s seen Siora wield, reach out from the earth. It isn’t too hard to conclude what happened.

“Signs of combat. They were attacked. By the look of the tents and campfire, it dates back several days. It seems that they were taken prisoner. Perhaps they were yielding magic?”

“Yes. It is the art of the doneigada. One of the valley clans was here.”

“Do you know which one?”

“One who fights against the invasion of the peoples from your island. I can be sure of nothing more.”

“The doneia egsregaw then? Do you know why they would attack the scholars? It’s obvious from the camp that they couldn’t be confused with warriors.”

“They come here as conquerors, this is enough. But they were not killed, warriors would have been…”

They search the site thoroughly. Petrus collects plants littering the site to take back with them while Kurt and Vasco look for any signs of a trail. Alexandre finds a journal on a nearby cart. The Bridge Alliance had already made many notes on the plants they had collected so far. Maybe Catasach could make use of it. The journal also noted another campsite location made by a scholar called Aphra. 

“It seems that one of the team kept a distance from the others.” he calls out to the captains. 

“Aye,” Vasco says grimly. “We’ve found a trail of blood. Not a good sign.”

“Follow it.” 

The trail led to a separate clearing, this one inhabited by a large group of ulgs. They clear them out and find the corpse. The body has been mangled grotesquely by the ulgs, but the clothing can still be made out. He’s been dead for days. They had been just in time to save the body from being devoured. 

“This isn’t the woman whose journal we found. There is still a chance she remains alive.”

Siora looks down at the body. “This man traded his life for all the suffering of my people.”

“He was only a scholar, Siora, a sage, not a warrior on the battlefield!”

“Do you think my people see a difference when Bridge men steal our people from their beds? From who do you think all the clans hide their children?”

The grudge Siora holds against the Bridge Alliance runs deep. She hasn’t forgotten the lengths they had to go to, just so she could pay respects to her mother. Alexandre hopes he hasn’t made a mistake of bringing her on this trip. He was banking on her help in case they ran into the doneia egsregaw. Hopefully her anger wouldn’t cloud her judgement if they came across any living alliance members. Especially if they had to protect them from the natives. 

“This man was unarmed,” Kurt gently says, “and from the position of his body I would say he was fleeing. It is not honor that motivates them...Maybe it was vengeance.”

Coming from Kurt, the words seem to have impact and Siora sighs. They drop the conversation for now.

They find the isolated camp further down the trail. This one is completely surrounded by rock and gives an overview of the valley. A much stronger position from danger and the elements. This scholar must be smarter than the rest. The camp is still in one piece. She was hidden from the attackers. Alexandre finds another journal in a nearby chest.

“This scholar, Aphra, this is her camp.”

“Isolated. Discrete. Perfect visibility. Great choice.” Kurt approves.

“She speaks of their research, and relates here that she felt watched. She feared an attack was brewing. I believe she was right, the writing stops in mid sentence…”

“A woman with sharp eyes. They might have saved her life.” says Kurt. 

They continue to follow the tracks. They form a path towards the swamp. They finally run into some islanders. 

“Renaigse!” one of them calls as soon as she sees them.

Her companion clenches his fists. “We won’t let you take us! We will not kneel down without a fight!” Alexandre feels the ground start to rumble under his feet.

He holds up his arms and signals at his companions to do the same. “Wait! We have no desire to fight you, we only want to find the lion sages. They are not warriors but their chief is ready to send an army of warriors to liberate them!” he reasons. “If you help us bring them back you will save your tribe from a costly battle in lives.”

The man looks them up and down before finally relaxing. The shaking stops.

“He speaks truly. Look, one of them is already eager to bring lion warriors back to us.”

So the scholars are alive. And one of them is running their mouth. Great.

“All we wanted was for them to tell us where our brothers are being kept!”

“What good is this if we must leave our camp behind? Very well…” he gives. “Stay away from the main entrance, our guards will not welcome your arrival.”

“Pass around,” the other doneia egsregaw instructs them, “there is a smaller entrance hidden there....The lions are kept in a home in ruins.”

“There must be a key somewhere to open the door, but I know not where it is kept.”

The two islanders leave them in peace. As far as first impressions go, the doneia egsregaw are not the brutes he expected. Again, things are not so black and white. Maybe they can be reasoned with after all. But that could wait. They first needed to free the scholars. With the information from these two, he hopes they can do it without a fight.

The company ventures towards the ruins through the swamp. 

At a certain point, Alexandre pauses when something catches his eye. A white flasks rests in the water. He goes to pick it up when he hears rustling in the tree above. A body drops down in front of him.

He doesn’t get a good look before the woman draws a knife on him. Thanks to Kurt’s training, his reflexes have quickened and he manages to move out of the knife’s path before hitting it out of the woman’s arms. But the woman is also quick. In the same motion, she draws a gun on him. He can’t draw his open weapon without dropping the bottle in his hands. Was it a trap? Either way, he’d have a bullet in his head before he could make a move. 

He hears the rest of his companions draw their weapons. Sees the glint of Siora’s magic blade in the corner of his eyes. They surround them.

“I am not here to kill you.” he says. 

“Lion!” Siora hisses out through snarled teeth.

“Siora! Don’t!” Alexandre commands. He holds his palms higher to show the woman they mean no harm.

Alexandre’s eyes flick between the gun and its owner. The alliance woman is dressed in the bright colors associated with her country. They are lovely against her dark skin. She wears a belt littered with vials and grenades. Despite the suggestion that she knows how to traverse the wildlands, her skin is unmarked. She’s pretty, Alexandre thinks. A nudge of the gun draws his attention back to the weapon. It takes an effort not to step backwards.

“Tell me then, what is your intended purpose.” The girl’s voice wavers slightly. Not a warrior then. Maybe this is the independent scholar. He goes with his gut. 

“We were sent to find you.”

“Apologies, but allow me to express my doubts.” She brings the barrel of the gun right to his forehead.

“After this little swim, you could always try to pull the trigger.” He tilts his head towards his companions. He may go down. But she’s next.

After a tense moment, she removes the gun. Alexandre motions to his friends and the rest of them sheath their weapons, Siora being the last to do so. 

The girl grabs the vial from his hand.

“Who sent you to find me?

“We were not looking for you in particular, but the entire expedition. It was Governor Burhan who asked us to find you: He is worried about you. You haven’t been reporting.”

“You should have said that straight away…” 

_I was a little busy avoiding getting shot_ Alexandre thinks. 

She circles him, giving him the once over. “I must admit I was hoping for a rescue...of a different nature.” _What is that supposed to mean?_ “Do you have a name?”

“De Sardet. I am from the Congregation.”

“Hmmm, the new governor’s cousin...who wears...an islander face…” She uses the gun to tilt his head, giving her a clear view of the mark. She’s confident now that she knows they are not here to harm her. He pushes the gun away in annoyance. “I’ve heard stories about you. And them?”

“I am Siora, daughter of Bladnid. From the people that your own capture and torture…” 

The scholar gives her a look. It says this isn’t the first time she’s heard this.

“I’ve never taken anyone. On the contrary, we had hoped to exchange our knowledge with your own.” 

It's not the answer Siora wanted. She reminds him a little of Constantin in that moment when as a child he’d purposefully try to rile people up. He made the same face when he was unsuccessful. She crosses her arms. 

Kurt gives Siora a look. Alexandre thinks he is of the mind to step in before things get more awkward. “Kurt, simply Kurt, I protect our excellency’s back…” he pauses. “And if one of your violent fits overcomes you, rescue party or not, I will kill you.”

_Well, so much for that. Thanks, Kurt._

Alexandre gives Vasco a pleading look. He takes the hint and introduces himself. 

“Captain Vasco. Though I realize, I am quite far from the sea. 

_Thank you, now maybe we can move forward…_

“Bishop Petrus. If our young friend hadn’t insisted on coming here, I would have gladly let you rot in this marsh.”

_Dammit, will you lot behave!_

The girl scoffs. “Behold the charity of the Enlightened, huh?” She turns back to Alexandre. “This is a rather odd group...I am Aphra, a scholar from the Bridge Alliance. It is rather rare to find me rolling in the marshes. I study the fauna and flora of this isle. I should imagine you have many questions?”

“We saw the site where you were attacked. What exactly happened?”

“We were taken by surprise. One moment everything was calm, and the next a war party of Natives fell upon us.” Kurt gives humored “hmm” at the phrase “war party.” “I had an uneasy feeling and kept myself apart, but when I heard my fellow scholars’ shouts, I rushed over. Most of my companions are incapable of defending themselves, and we didn’t have guards to protect us. One of them tried to flee, but they brought him down. We decided to give ourselves up to avoid a massacre.”

 _She was with them? How did she end up here?_

“What has happened since the attack? How long have you been in these marshes?” he asks. 

“We were taken prisoner, and were brought to a village nearby. I was able to escape while the others were taken to a house that they use as a prison. I wanted to join the Bridge Alliance frontier post not far from here, but I wasn’t able. So I doubled back to keep watch of the village from a distance. I have been hoping to find a way to free my companions, without any success so far.”

“Have you made progress in your search for a cure?”

“Hmmm,” she ponders, “We were studying some quite remarkable plants when we were attacked. The region is rife in unknown and novel species. Some seem incredibly promising. The local shamans know all these plants, and they use them in their remedies. If only we had been able to converse with them, rather than getting ourselves captured.”

“Not all of them are of the same mind. If we were to help you, would you be able to come back with us? Share what you learned? We have a native healer in New Serene that would be willing to talk with you about the local flora; help you eliminate any misleading plants.” It’d be a win-win for the young scholar.

Aphra’s eyes light up and her body thrums with enthusiasm. She controls it so it doesn’t reach her voice. “Yes. Yes, that sounds acceptable.”

“Could you lead us to the village where your colleagues are being held prisoner?”

“Certainly. We are oh so very close. And I fully intend to participate in this rescue. I’m not one to sit around and twiddle thumbs.” Her voice leaves no room for argument. 

“Of course. Lead on.”  
____________________________________

Aphra led them to the ruins. They had to take down a small group of ulgs along the way. The scholar could certainly hold her own in a fight. The gun she held was not just for show. And her small arsenal of grenades helped them take down the pack quickly. Kurt and Vasco looked at her in wonder after the fight, but neither voiced how impressed they were. 

Thanks to the tips from the native trackers, they were able to avoid any fighting with the doneia egsregaw within the main ruins. They manage to lockpick the prison holding the scholars and sneak away. Just when they thought they were in the clear, they hear shouting behind them.

_Shit!_

Island warriors quickly surround them. The team position themselves in front of the unarmed scholars. 

“We don’t want to fight!” yells Alexandre. 

He feels an answering arrow brush past his face. It stings where it nicks him. 

Surprisingly, it's Siora who is the first of them to charge forward. 

The island warriors are tough, but they manage to fight them into submission. Their leader pants on his knees, staring down the barrel of Alexandre’s gun. He grips his side where Kurt managed to hit him with his broadsword. 

“Trocared!” he cries. “Mercy! You have defeated us! Spare us our lives!”

The lead scholar runs up behind Alexandre to hiss in his ear. 

“If you spare them, they will only hunt us down until we are all dead!”

The warrior shakes his head in protest. “No, you have our word, we have been bested, we will let you move on in peace!”

“How can we trust you?” Aphra asks. “You attacked our camp when we were not even armed!”

“They are savages! They had us caged like beasts!”

“We only sought to learn where you have “caged” our people!” the man replies. 

_Enlightened One, this conversation is going to go nowhere._

Siora steps near him. “Spare their lives, I beg you! They were only fighting to save the lives of those that have disappeared!”

They all look at Alexandre. He weighs his options and then puts down his gun.

“What are you doing?” the shocked head scholar gasps. 

He doesn’t respond to her, but addresses the wounded natives. 

“Leave, and I hope you keep your word.”

“Thank you, on ol menawi, I have spoken and I will honor my words. Kwa awelam seg.”

The warriors limp back to their camp, some leaning on the shoulders of those less wounded. Alexandre can feel the disappointment of the scholars on his back. But if he’s learned anything, it's that words have more meaning to the islanders than to those from the continent. The fallout of killing them would have father reaching consequences he is sure. 

The scholars mumble to themselves when they reach the camp. They light their own fire and pitch their tents apart from the company, but still within sight for their own protection. His own companions sit around the fire as Vasco prepares a large bird he shot along the way. Alexandre reads over one of the journals from the scholar campsite. He hasn’t told them he has it. 

“May I join you?”

Aphra has approached them. The rest of the company looks at Alexandre, looking to see if he will approve or not. 

“Of course! Please, sit. He gestures to a stop by him on the ground.” His friends relax and start to talk amongst themselves.

“We are no longer in danger. Thank you for your help, De Sardet.” 

Alexandre nods and then decides to hand over the journal. “I must admit. The reasons for my being here are not entirely selfless.” 

She takes the journal with an inquisitive look. He continues, motioning to the journal.

“Your research to find a remedy against the malichor could save many lies in our cities as well…”

 _It could save Constantin…_ he mentally adds. 

“Our leader tells me that they made a discovery. We planned on returning back to Governor Burhan at first light.”

He can hardly contain his excitement. “I’ll accompany you.”

“We would be glad for the protection. And certainly the Governor will pay you in information. We’ll share what we know.” 

“Of course! Yes, thank you.”

The two trail off into silence and stare into the fire. 

“I was glad...that you let them go.”

Alexandre looks at Aphra, but doesn’t say anything so that she will continue. 

“Despite what your friend may think,” she covertly nods to Siora who is talking with Kurt and Vasco on the other side of the fire, “I wish no ill will on the islanders. I just want to understand.” 

“You can’t blame them for their anger. I’ve heard the rumors of the tests that your people have subjected them to. Those that they love go missing.” 

“The work of desperate men, if true. It is no doing of mine....”

They are quiet again for a moment. This time, both are uncomfortable. Eventually, Aphra breaks the silence. 

“My colleagues are only interested in the physiology of the islanders, and consider everything else to be superstitions. However, if we want to understand how they are transforming, we need to take a look at their culture. The potions they drink, the concoctions they use are surely the source of their physical changes.” 

The mark on Alexandre’s face itches. He is walking evidence against her theory. He has the same changes due to his ancestry, not because of any change in diet or lifestyle. But he can’t tell her that. 

“Why not talk about it with Siora?” he asks. “It seems to me that she would be the best one to help you?”

Aphra sighs. “Siora is very suspicious of me. She will never betray the secrets of the doneigada. But I was told about a place of ritual called Cergganaw decorated with carvings and offerings. By studying them, I hope to better understand what is possibly the greatest mystery of the century!” She trails off with a voice of awe. Alexandre smiles. He recognizes a little of himself in that hunger for knowledge. He hopes that she gets to go. 

She smiles back at him. 

“Do you often hold strangers at gunpoint?” he jests. 

“Only when I’m being tracked…” she looks him up and down, a sly look upon her face. “What about you? Do you often track young ladies?”

 _Oh…_

Is she…is she flirting with him?

Alexandre clears his throat. “Your journal was surprisingly thorough, and your observations very pertinent. How could one not want to find someone so brilliant?” He manages to keep his voice steady. She is very pretty.

“It could have fallen into the hands of a boorish idiot unable to understand any of it…I’m glad it was you who found it.”

“Where do you come from, Aphra?”

“From Olima, near Al Saad...It is but a small town, but there is a particularly renowned observatory there. My parents wanted me to become an astronomer, but I chose the earth over the sky. I was always more intrigued by life rather than distant stars...Plants and animals fascinated me as a child. For this reason, I left Olima quite early to study in the capital...And I seldom returned.”

Alexandre listens to her thoughtfully. He’s never met a woman with the same interests as himself, someone fascinated with the study of living things. Most women found it boring. 

“Is it true that Al Saad is home to thousands of great white birds with huge wings, storks I believe is what you call them?”

Aphra smiles fondly.

“Ah, yes. They are lovely creatures. Although we no longer have one set religion, the birds have a rich standing in our culture. They fill the waters each summer to mate and although there is no rule against hunting them, people leave them be in an almost sacred fashion. Al Saad even has a hospital for them. And no, before you ask, they do NOT steal children and give them to new homes.” 

“Do people actually believe that?”

Aphra chuckles. ‘You’d be surprised.”

“When did you arrive on the island? Was it hard to leave?”

“A little more than two years ago. My master, Doctor Asili, suggested that I should follow him to Teer Fradee. He needed help cataloguing all the unknown plants and animals. The decision was rather easy. How could I decline such an offer? There’s so much to discover here!”

“Do you miss the continent, your city...Your family, perhaps?”

Aphra purses her lips in thought. “No. When I arrived on this island, I immediately knew that it was where I was supposed to be.” She answers truthfully as if she were thinking it out loud for the first time. “And you? What brought you here?”

“My family, mainly. As you know, my cousin is the new governor of the Congregation’s city here. It’s my job to aid him in our relations with the natives and the other cities.”

“I don’t envy that job.”

“It has its ups and downs. It’s brought me to see amazing things…” he gestures to the forest around him, “and to meet some great people.” He looks at the people around the fire. “Its nerve-racking, yes. At any moment, I feel like our actions could either build bonds between our people or start a war. What will do will have an impact for years to come.” 

They look back at the fire for a beat. 

“It is amazing. To feel like you are on the cusp of something great,” Aphra says. “To think the malichor could finally be eradicated in our lifetime?”

Alexandre’s face grows serious. 

“Sooner, better than later.” 

Aphra reads the mood. 

“...someone you love?”

Alexandre’s frown deepens. He doesn’t respond beyond a stiff nod.

Aphra nods in understanding. “You will come back with us to Hikmet and we will share what we learned. Then, if the offer still stands, I will come back with you to meet this healer. Between the two of us, perhaps we will get even closer to the cure. And...if you are willing, we could stop at Cergganaw? It is a dangerous place and I cannot go alone, but surely if we learn more about the transformations, we will learn why the islanders do not get the malichor. Sound like a plan?”

She has peaked his interest. 

“Understanding these transformations will surely be useful. Sounds like a plan.”  
______________________________________

“You have found a plant with sufficient properties?” the governor asks the head scholar in excitement upon their return. Alexandre himself holds his breath.

“Not exactly. Know that during our captivity, an island woman visited the camp. The natives called her tierna harh cadachtas and treated her with utmost reverence. I heard them talk about a remedy, a universal remedy it seemed, that she had concocted.”

Alexandre looks back to Aphra. The look on her face tells him this was news to her as well. 

Siora snorts in amusement. “How’s that? Lemat radids neis yechtem?”

The scholar looks at Siora in annoyance. She crosses her arms defensively. “Ah, well, I grasp the basics of the local tongue. And I am certain to have heard the word yag, remedy.”

“Surprising...But the tierna harh is very powerful and very wise. It is possible that she did craft such a remedy.” 

“Would we know where she is?” Alexandre asks Siora. 

“Not at the moment. I will see what I can find.” she responds. 

“Very well. Thank you, my lord, for allowing us to listen in on this discovery.”

“No, thank you, de Sardet, for returning my people unharmed. Everything I have heard about you and your cousin do you justice.” The governor gestures towards Aphra. “Aphra has told me that she has asked to join you in your travels. She is in good hands, you will find her a valuable resource.” 

Alexandre bows slightly to the governor and they leave. Many new developments have come from this day. And he hopes that the addition of Aphra to his team will mend the relationships between all the peoples of Teer Fradee. They will be an example to everyone else. 

When they reach the door, Father Petrus and Aphra attempt to go through the doorway at the same time. There is an awkward pause as the two glare daggers at each other, each one waiting on the other to go through the door first. 

Alexandre sighs. 

One day at a time.


	17. En on mil frichtimen

“I don’t trust her.”

Alexandre rolls his eyes. 

“Kurt, you just don’t like her because Siora doesn’t like her.”

Kurt and Alexandre pack their bags for the trip to Cergganaw. It took a lot of convincing to get his companions to join him and Aphra on this quest. Siora finally decided to go simply out of fear that Aphra would offend her people in some way, dragging Alexandre’s name down in the process. Father Petrus decided to head back to New Serene on his own. The bishop offered to take the plant samples and scholar notes to Catasach.

“Maybe she has a good reason.”

“Siora has been personally hurt by the Bridge Alliance, but Aphra isn’t the one that issued those orders. We can’t judge someone by where they come from, Kurt.”

“Where we come from has a huge influence on the people we are, Greenblood.”

“Yes, but they don’t control who we are. Or are Constantin and I doomed to go to war out of greed because THAT is where we come from?”

“You know that is not what I mean, Alexandre.”

Alexandre sighs and pats his friend on the back. “I know you mean well, Kurt. But give it time, yeah? I daresay if she tries anything, she won’t get past you.”

“Damn straight.”

They go downstairs to find the rest of the company in awkward silence. Captain Vasco looks exceptionally uncomfortable. Alexandre scans the room. “We ready?”

“Yes!” Vasco replies a little too quickly. He’s the first out the door. 

They leave the town of Hikmet and walk together for a ways. When the road splits, they say goodbye to Petrus. 

The rest of them head to the site of Cergganaw.  
_________________________________________

They reach the region of the stone circle of Cergganaw a little after nightfall, much later than anticipated. The circle and nearby village will have to wait until morning. 

“We can make camp here. We’ll visit the site at first light.”

As they sit down their packs, Siora motions at them to be quiet. 

“Siora, what is…”

“Shh...do you hear that?”

A scream erupts from nearby. The company drops their bags and grabs their weapons. They follow the noise of the scream. A clearing in the stone brings them to the ritual site. They are greeted by the sight of strange reptilian-like beasts surrounding a pair of teenagers. 

Aphra runs ahead, “We must help these young people or they will be killed!”

She shoots at a nearby beast and it falls to the ground, a clean shot. Another charges at the scholar and whips back its muscular tail, swinging it back around towards her. She won’t be able to move in time. 

“Aphra!” Alexandre shouts.

Before the creature can strike, roots grab its feet. It yelps in surprise as it is pulled back.

Aphra turns around to see Siora focusing on the beast. The two ladies give each other a nod. 

“Watch their tails!” Kurt yells at them. Only one hit would knock any of them out. 

“Better yet, their fangs!” Aphra responds. Another bullet finds its way into a nearby creature. This one hitting its back leg, causing it to screech and charge towards them. 

The creatures make for a difficult fight. They were fast and their skin thick. If the hit wasn’t right between the eyes, it took a lot to bring them down. By the time Kurt draws a sword through the last one, they are all bruised and panting. 

Alexandre turns to the teens. The young girl sits with her back resting against the stone pillars. The boy runs out to meet them. What were they doing out here so late?

Alexandre looks at the boy. “You were lucky, if we hadn't been here…”

He is quick to agree. “Yes, blessed be the earth that has brought you to us at this time!”

“I...Yewan,” the girl calls out. The boy whips his head towards her in concern. “I was touched! I am hurt…” she says. 

“Oh no! Morian!” The boy sprints back to the girl. She holds onto her side. 

Aphra bends down in front of her. The girl sees her outfit and flinches away.

“I mean you no harm,” Aphra consoles her. “Please, let me see.”

The girl looks at Siora who gives her a nod. After a moment, she moves her arm out of the way and Aphra lifts up the cloth where it has been torn by one of the beasts. The girl's skin underneath is starting to darken. 

“These creatures are venomous. If their venom has come into contact with her blood, this young woman does not have long.” Aphra urges. 

“We are too far from the village to seek help.” The young man pleads. “How are we going to save her?”

Aphra starts to pull vials from her belt. “I know a potion that will erase the effects of the venom. I’ll need a sample of the venom from the dead creatures.” She pulls back her sleeves.

When she realizes that they are all just watching her she whips her head towards them. “Go!” she gestures towards the dead beasts. 

Kurt runs to collect the venom. 

“Thank you.” Yewan says as Aphra prepares the rest of the antidote. “Truly the best winds have brought you to us!”

It doesn’t take long for the antidote to take effect. 

“She is saved…” the boy called Yewan sighs in relief. “You have great wisdom! May the trees always bear fruits on your journey! You have saved Morian!”

Aphra responds: “It was nothing. I’m glad I could help you.”

“You are different from other renaigse. You know the potions. But what were you looking for here?”

“We came to study this place, the carvings in particular.” Aphra responds. 

Yewan looks at them in confusion. “This is one of our places of ritual; a place of connection! What do you hope to learn from our carvings?”

“I...I seek to understand the mechanisms of your transformations. I think these carvings could help with this.”

“You seek the secrets of the doneigada…” Morian responds with understanding. “You should speak with our mal.” 

“Yes,” agrees Yewan, “his name is Dunncas. He is also our doneigad and his wisdom is boundless.”

“Here is someone that should be able to answer all of your questions, Aphra.” Alexandre says to her. 

“Let us go, then. We will have time to discuss on the way.” says Yewan.

As they follow them, Alexandre catches a bit of the conversation taking place between the women behind him. 

“Aphra…”

“Yes?”

“The way you ran out to help the young ones...then you healed them...I…”

“It was nothing, Siora.”

“I...Thank you, nonetheless.”

Alexandre grins to himself. 

The teens lead them to a nearby village and to the hut of the doneigad, Dunncas. 

Dunncas was an interesting man. He wore a headdress similar to Catasach, but was not nearly as straightforward as the other doneigad. He looked at them with a twinkle of humor in his eyes and spoke in riddles. His people loved him. 

To Aphra’s disappointment, the man did not share the secrets of Cergganaw. He did, however, open up his home to them for the night. And the man threw one hell of a party.

“You’re sulking.” Alexandre plops down beside Aphra, a drink in his hand. He doesn’t know what it is, but it leaves a pleasant tingling in his fingers. “At least it wasn’t a no.” The party had wound down and the rest of the companions had turned in. Yewan and Morian had wished them a goodnight. 

“I’m pretty sure it was a no.” Aphra responds. “There is no way that the other doneigads will agree to telling us about the circle.” The young scholar frowns. 

“Something else wrong?”

“You didn’t notice?” 

Alexandre shrugs and so Aphra explains, “Dunncas wasn’t here tonight. Yet he’s the one who invited us to stay. I also saw one of the elders sneaking out of the village.”

“You think they’re hiding something from us?” He already knows where this is going. He looks at the bed roll that was laid out for him longfully. 

“I don’t know. But since they don’t want to share their knowledge with us, let’s try to follow them!” 

_What’s that phrase mother used to say? Curiosity killed the…_

“I hope you know what you are doing. We shouldn’t get angry with Dunncas.” 

“If we remain unseen, everything will be fine. Let’s go before we lose their trail.”

Aphra gets up from the fire and heads in the direction of the forest before he can agree or disagree. This girl will be the death of him.

But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious as well.   
____________________________________________

The two of them catch up to some natives making their way through the woods. They stalk closely behind them. 

They hide behind some rocks as they watch them approach a clearing. Some ulgs gather around the tree that the natives approach. They pause there for a time and then move on. The ulgs don’t react to them at all.

“Why don’t the beasts attack them?” Aphra whispers. 

“I don’t know...Are they guarding this place?”

“If they’re trained to guard it...this must be a very important place.”   
They sneak past the beasts under the cover of brush and darkness. The trail brings them to a cave. 

“Shh, I hear something.” 

“We found them. Let’s be discreet as possible.”

They follow the natives into a large chamber in the cave. In its center a massive tree lies below. Natives surround it. Dunncas stands in front of the great tree, he chants aloud. Alexandre wishes they had Siora to translate, but she probably would have not allowed them to follow in the first place. 

The set up is exactly like that of the cult ceremony Kurt, Petrus, and himself had observed before. A little less blood, yelling, and murderous intent perhaps. But the similarities are there. 

They attempt to move closer when Alexandre hears a twig snap under his foot. The pair of them freeze.

Dunncas turns towards them.

“The leaves rustle and speak...Someone is listening to us. Whoever you are, come out of the shadows, hiding is futile.”

Found out, Alexandre wonders if he can blame it on the drink as the two reveal themselves. 

“Forgive us, we did not intend to interrupt you,” he says. 

“Approach, renaigse!” Dunncas beckons to them. 

“We are sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.”

“We needed answers, so we followed your elders.” Aphra says.

Dunncas looks at them with a mixture of disappointment and amusement, like a father that knows his child has done wrong, but finds it funny anyways. 

“Well, since you absolutely want to learn, do as the apprentices do.” He gestures to some teens sitting nearby. “Take a seat…”

Aphra nods in excitement. 

Dunncas quirks a brow at her. “And be quiet! We are here to meditate, to hear the voice of the earth, because the wind has changed.”

The two of them sit and observe in silence. 

The natives begin their chanting again when a great wind begins to whirl around them. The two of them watch in wonder as leaves twirl in rhythm around the natives and the tree. 

Where is the wind coming from? They’re in a cave. Aphra’s eyes widen in wonder. 

As she continues to observe the ceremony, Alexandre observes Dunncas and the elders out of the corner of his eye. 

“Clos duis, a ruicht neis diri!” an elder approaches Dunncas. “You were right, Yewan is ready...Morian’s trial has made her more sensitive…”

“She is his minundhanem and he is hers. One cannot progress without the other.”

Alexandre does his best to take in context clues and to log key words to ask Siora about later. 

Dunncas continues. 

“She will have to bring him to the cave of knowledge. This will be his last trial before creating the bond.”

“May their path be gentle and shielded! As for me, I hear the call ever louder, Dunncas.”

“And the day the call is loud enough, you will respond, just like each of us. But it’s not yet time for you to join En on mil frichtimen.”

Alexandre’s ears perk at the mention of the familiar name.They must be talking about death. Many cultures believed in joining a god after they died.

The wind dies down in the cave and the natives slowly leave the tree in small groups to return to the village. Dunncas walks towards them.

“So, Aphra, are you satisfied with what you saw?”

“It was informative, although it’s not what I expected. Thank you, Dunncas.”

The corner of the man’s mouth quirks upward and he nods. “I trust, you will find your way back to the village alright. You could always sneak past one of the others.” He gives them a knowing look.

“I think we will be alright.” Aphra says.   
As they walked back to the village, they discuss what they saw.

“This meeting was strange, it almost seemed like they really heard voices in the wind.”

“Maybe it's true.” Alexandre offers.

“Some believe so strongly that they end up hearing or seeing what they hope for…”

“Have you learned what you wanted to?”

“What they said about these young people we helped out. About the fact they were ready to bind themselves.” Ah, so she was listening to them as well. She has a gleam in her eye. He’s learning very quickly that it will get him in trouble. “We have a unique opportunity of seeing a transformation with our very own eyes.”

“But we can’t follow them wherever they go!”

“No...we can’t. Lets get some sleep. I’ll think about it. We’ll talk in the morning” 

As soon as his head hits the pillow, Kurt is giving him a shake to wake him up. Alexandre groans as he sees the sun is already up.   
__________________________________________

At breakfast Aphra is already excitedly talking about the cave of knowledge. Did she even sleep?

“I don’t know, Aphra…” He doesn’t want to ruin their relationship with Dunncas, even though the man proved himself to be well tempered. 

“Think about what we could learn. What you could learn about yourself. Don’t you want to understand where your face markings come from?”

“I cannot believe you!” hisses Siora. “To disregard the wishes of these people,” she gives him a pointed look, “I expected better!”

Alexandre winces. He definitely has not had enough sleep for this. Aphra speaks for him.

“I am sorry, Siora, but can you blame us? These transformations could be the very key to saving our people!” 

“That doesn’t give you the right to…”

“You can tell me I’m wrong after you’ve lost someone you love to the malichor!”

“Ladies, please!” Kurt puts himself between them. The two ladies fume on either side. Yep, much too early for this.

Alexandre sighs and wipes his face with a hand. “Aphra, would you go on this hunt for the cave of knowledge with or without us?”

“I would.” She tilts her chin up in pride. 

“And Siora, wouldn’t you rather we all went, so that she doesn’t do anything to cause any more falling out between our people?”

Siora huffs. “I see your point, on ol menawi. Very well. We will go.” She walks up to Aphra. “But you, you will be silent and learning. No running ahead this time.”

“No running ahead,” Aphra agrees. “Our new friends will surely be able to tell us more about his cave.”   
___________________________________________

Against their own peoples’ rules, Yewan and Morian gave them the location of the cave of knowledge. 

They found the cave, but a giant stone door blocked the entrance. In front of the entrance was an altar. At first, they were stumped by what type of offering to make, but luckily the answer to that puzzle lay with some treasure hunters camped nearby. A small seed to move a mountain. Poetic. 

Inside the main chamber of the cave, they find paintings similar to the ones they found in the swamp before being attacked by the Nadaig. This time, the paintings tell a story. They depict the transformation of a man, his binding as the natives call it. Of key interest is the stone depicting a ritual where the man pours out his own blood on a stone while a Nadaig is present. The location looks like the stone circle of Cergganaw. 

They hide when they hear others enter the cave. It’s Yewan and Morian. The two are in intimate conversation. Siora alone can understand what they say. They follow her when she indicates that they should leave the couple alone. They leave quietly.

Aphra is brimming with excitement when they get far enough away. 

“The paintings in the cave were...magnificent! And taught us so much! It is obvious they depict the bonding ritual and its consequences. It is by pouring their blood on the raised stones that the natives become metamorphs. The islanders think that their ritual has magic consequences. But there must be some sort of contamination in their blood as they pout it! The only way to verify this theory is to attend a full ritual! We must attend Yewan’s!”

“How do we know when it will take place?” Alexandre asks.

“Dunncas said it would take place after the young people visited the cave. And they will most likely need some preparation. We should go to the holy circle of Cergganaw tomorrow.”  
________________________________________

Dunncas has that same glint in his eye when he sees them enter the circle. 

“You again! Your curiosity is truly unquenchable”

“Forgive our intrusion, Dunncas. But I really want to attend Yewan’s ritual. I have learned a lot thanks to you, but I still have so much left to understand!”

“If you were one of ours, Aphra, I would be flattered to have such an inquisitive and resolute apprentice.” The older man looks at her with fondness. “You can attend the ritual, but promise me that you will be discreet. No renaigse ever had this honor before.”

“We will do everything in our power to prove ourselves worthy of your trust, Dunncas.”

The man moves aside so that they can walk to Yewan. The young man is a ball of nerves. 

“How are you?” Aphra asks. “You must be feeling impatient.”

Yewan gives her a nervous smile. “Impatient, yes, and...A little bit afraid, as well.” 

“It’s only natural to be afraid Yewan, it’s a new life strating for you!” Morian supports. “But I will be by your side, now and forever!”

The two are so young and yet so connected and sure of each other. Alexandre envies them. 

A cough catches his attention. Two elderly natives beckon him towards them. He leaves Aphra with the young couple to meet them. They look him up and down quizzically.

“Times really must have changed for some renaigse to attend our rituals.” one of the older ladies says. They were the ones that beckoned him forward. Now they speak to eachother as if he can’t hear them!

“These are very different from the others.” The other lady responds. “Their leader is an on ol menawi after all.” 

“I know I look like them, but I’m not one of them.” Alexandre explains. 

The lady gives him a sly smile. “You may not be bonded, but your parents must have been!”

“You should be proud and happy about it!” the other lady chimes in. “It is probably thanks to your bond that Dunncas has accepted your presence!”

Alexandre doesn’t know what to say. He now knows that his parents were islanders. Is it that far-fetched for them to be doneigad as well?

Aphra rejoins him when he goes back to Dunncas. The older man stands vigilant. His eyes scan the circle’s surroundings. 

“You look preoccupied?”

“Our people have suffered many Lions’ attacks, often during rituals,” Dunncas explains. In some villages, all the young sin ol menawi were abducted. You seem different from the others, Aphra, but I can’t help worrying.”

“I have nothing to do with these attacks, Dunncas, I swear!”

“I believe you, otherwise you wouldn’t be here with us. But I hope that your brothers will not be there, in the shadows, ready to pounce on our children.”

They begin the ritual when the sun sets. Dunncas indicates to them where they should stand outside the main circle. 

Morian joins Yewan and the two of them walk towards the next ring of stones. At the edge of the ring, they tilt their foreheads together. They embrace each other in an intimate moment that sends another clench of envy through Alexandre. Then Yewan continues on alone. He approaches an altar in the middle of the circles. He pulls out a knife to cut his palm and says something in native tongue. Even if he knew the language, Alexandre was too far away to make it out. Yewan kneels before the altar. When he does so, Dunncas, the elders, and Siora kneel as well.

“Men e dad! Men e dad! Men e dad!” they chant. 

They continue to chant as Alexandre feels the ground shake. 

“The fuck is that?” he hears Kurt whisper next to him. He elbows the man in the rib cage, but can’t contain his own gasp at the creature that emerges from the woods. 

The Nadaig is huge. Unlike the ones they have come across before, this one is almost human like. It wears ornate clothes that resemble that of the islanders. It’s face is covered by a mask and it carries a giant spear. Sparks fly from the ground as the creature thrusts the spear into the stone with ease. It kneels before Yewan. 

Alexandre feels Aphra’s hand as it clings to his arm in a vice like grip. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is parted in awe. 

The air is tense as Yewan stands before the monster. He only has the knife to protect him. 

Then the creature picks up the stone slab in front of him. He pushes it into the upright position and then picks it up with ease, slamming it inches into the ground. Then the creature looks beyond Yewan towards the rest of them kneeling along the outer ring. Yewan looks like a house pet against its size. He feels Kurt reach for his sword. 

“Don’t” he hisses. The man gives him a look, but goes back to his original position, visibly tense. 

As Yewan looks up at the Nadaig, it looks back at him. It huffs at him before turning around to return to the woods. When it is out of sight, Dunncas joins Yewan in the circle. He indicates for the rest of them to follow suite. 

“You are an on ol menawi now, Yewan, and soon you will heal the earth by our sides, like a real doneigad!”

The young man is bursting with nervous energy and adrenalin. “Thank you, Dunncas! I feel so proud!”

Morian runs up to hug him. “I am so happy that we can be voglendaiga together at last!”

Dunncas turns to Aphra. The young woman has a stunned look on her face. Dunncas smiles when he sees it. 

“What about you, Aphra, did you find the answers you were looking for?”

She blinks when he addresses her and takes a moment to compose herself. 

“It’s strange...I didn’t exactly understand what happened, but I am...moved.”

“Some events must be understood with the heart, not the head!” 

“It seems like you are right, Dunncas.”

The man gives her another smile, but the moment is fleeting. Anger flashes on his face.   
“We are under attack!” he cries. 

When they turn around they see the Bridge Alliance soldiers rushing towards them.

“Wait! I am Aphra, a lead scholar under governor Burhan. I order you to tell me who gave the order for this!” 

“Grab the young metamorph! The others don’t matter!” the lead soldier barks. 

“You will not touch them!” snarls Aphra. She reaches for a grenade on her belt. 

He is not sure what time the fight begins. It ends as the sun rises over the horizon. 

“Your curiosity, Aphra, has saved lives. If it weren’t for you, people from my village would have been abducted or killed. I am infinitely grateful, especially considering that fighting against your brothers could not have been easy.”

Aphra’s face is grim. “Indeed, these people were brutes, they had it coming. However, you don’t know how right you are, Dunncas. I recognized some of these men.”

“Really? Did they belong to the governor’s court?”

She frowns. “No. They worked for my former master, Doctor Asili. I was his student for a long time before I realized that the man’s methods were...questionable. He was so obsessed with his goals that he became cruel.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “But I can’t believe he’d go as far as abducting people for his experiments.”

“You think that the on ol menawi are used for experiments?” It would explain the accusations against the alliance about missing islanders. A private group going against the government’s wishes. Although if they were successful in curing the malichor, the government would probably pardon these scientists. 

Aphra nods. “Now that I have seen these soldiers, I am certain of it…And I am afraid they may suffer atrocious treatment under the guise of scientific progress...I am so ashamed!”

Dunncas comes up to her and gently grabs her by the shoulders. He holds her at arm's length. “Come now, shame serves no purpose. And you are proof that the lions are not all the same.”

“Thank you Dunncas...And thank you, De Sardet. You opened my eyes.”

Alexandre offers her a smile. “You’re welcome. Although after the last couple of days with you, if it’s alright, I’d rather close mine! No more late night adventures for a while, yeah?”

“Agreed!” she chuckles.  
__________________________________________________

The journey to Cergganaw was a huge success. They still had many questions about the transformations. What was the purpose beyond the protection of the nadaig? Did the nadaig get anything from it? Once bound, how did an on ol menawi heal the earth as Dunncas had said? It seemed that as they revealed more answers, they got even more questions. Regardless, even though they still had much to learn, the trip was invaluable in the progress it made in their relations with the islanders. They were the first renaigse to be trusted with the ritual. It was a huge step. 

_One lead down, one more to go._ thinks Alexandre as they travel back to the valley of Magasvar. They plan to follow the scholar’s lead on the tierna harh. It seemed prudent to go back to the source of that knowledge. But this time, they use the front entrance. 

The islanders guarding the entrance are a little less than pleased to see them.

“Kwe es si renaigse? Do not take a step further!” They draw their weapons.

“We come in peace!” Alexandre calls out to them. “My name is De Sardet, I am from the Congregation of Merchants. We would like to speak to your chief.” 

“Foreigners like you bring nothing but pain and death. The last who came here took away our prisoners.”

_Well, this is awkward._

“I must admit to you that I am responsible, we had no choice but to free the sages. But I did all in my power to avoid bloodshed. I spared your warriors’ lives when they were at our mercy.”

“Hmm...They spoke of you. They say you keep the words you speak. Will you keep your peace?”

“I swear it.” 

“Then you may enter. But we have an eye on you. Daren, our chief, will not be happy to see you, you will need to convince her that you are worthy of trust.”

The ruins are quiet and all eyes are on them as the doneia egsregaw guard escorts them to a hut within the ruins. Chief Daren appears younger than expected, but then again, rebellions were often led by youth. Older individuals like Catasach and Dunncas were more likely to take the path of least resistance if it meant saving more of their people. 

Despite what the guards said, the two of them start out on a decent foot. Chief Daren was impressed that they had managed to free the alliance scholars without harm coming to either side. She allows them to speak.

“We seek an audience with the tierna harh cadachtas. We believe that she knows of a remedy for a sickness that kills thousands in our homeland. This disease and the quest for a cure pushes my people to come to your island and to invade it. But if we could finally heal the sickness...Most of them would return to their country.”

Daren leans forward in her chair. She rests her chin thoughtfully in her fists. 

“You say it is a sickness that drives you like a plague over our island...like locusts?”

An interesting way of putting it…

“It is the main reason...Our lands have become a sad cemetery filled with…” an image of Constantin being buried flashes to him and he chokes, “with the bodies of our dead…”

“This sounds true, you walk with the shadow of death...But what you tell me pleases me. I prefer chasing you away with our blades, but we have already lost so many of our own...Does your word carry value for your people? Are you a respected chief?”

“I am the cousin of the governor of the Congregation and his emissary. He hears me.”

“Then promise me what you say is true. That you will do all you can to leave when you have found your remedy.”

Alexandre pauses. He doesn’t have the power to make that promise. He knows his uncle. It would be a difficult task to get him to leave a land with so much potential for profit. And Theleme and the Bridge Alliance? How could he compete with the lure of moral obligation and scientific progress? He wishes he could consult Constantin in this, but the moment is too delicate. If he didn’t have the utmost confidence in his answer now, the chief would never trust him. They would lose this potential remedy...Constantin would be lost. 

“That I promise you.” 

It rolls a little too easily off the tongue.

Aphra, Kurt, and Vasco whip their heads toward him with widened eyes, but they keep their tongues.

Daren looks him in the eye and he puts all his power into not betraying any emotion. 

“You will find the tierna harh cadachtas in the village of Vigshadhir, to the north-east of this camp.” 

“Tha...”

“Now leave us...And do not betray your word,” she warns.   
____________________________________________

The companions walk along the trail to the village of Vigshadhir in silence, troubled. 

After a beat Captain Vasco clears his throat to speak. 

“...So...I’m just going to lay this out there. HOW exactly are you going to get three nations with well established cities to leave the island?”

Alexandre’s brows furrow. “I’ll think of something.”

“Ah…” the captain comments and Alexandre whips around.

“What was I supposed to do?! Say, ‘Oh, actually, when we get the cure our people will turn this island into a lovely vacation home. Do those ulgs come in tiny, adorable sizes? The ladies will love them!’”

“What you did was foolish!” snapped Aphra. “Do you speak for all of us? Burhan would never agree to those terms!”

Siora looks at him in pity. “I know you would keep your word, on ol menawi, but Aphra is right, I don’t believe the mindshakers and lions will follow you.” 

“Even your own people,” Vasco adds, “they couldn’t exactly stay away the second time, could they?”

“Oye! Lay off, the lot of you!” yells Kurt. 

They fall silent. 

“Look,” Alexandre urges, “I know that it was stupid. I knew it the minute it came out of my mouth. But be honest with me,” he turns to ask Siora, “would we have any chance of finding the tierna harh cadachtas if I hadn’t had said yes?”

Siora looks at the ground before looking him in the eye with confidence. “No. No you would not. The tierna harh cadachtas hasn’t been seen by those except her own in years. No one else would ever tell you where she is.” 

“There you are.” Alexandre looks between them. Then he sighs. “If there is any possibility that she already has a remedy, what choice did we have? We just...we just don’t have the time.”

Captain Vasco goes up to him and grabs him by the arm. “I know it’s awful, De Sardet, but the malichor has been killing people for years, it’s not like a little more time would…”

“Constantin doesn’t have a little more time!” he yells in his shocked face. He jerks out of his arms and takes off down the path. Eventually he hears the rest of them hurry to catch up. 

They don’t say another word to each other for the rest of the trip to Vigshadhir.   
________________________________________

Vighadhir is hidden deep within the woods of Frasoneigad, where the forest is so thick that they almost miss it. Out of all the villages they have come across, it may very well be Alexandre’s favorite. He’d like to build his own hut out in the woods like this. The idea of getting away is especially appealing right now. He wonders how Constantin would fare, ‘roughing it’ in the woods. His cousin would boast a thirst for adventure, but at the end of the day, he loved the finer things. 

There is no clear entrance to the village and it is open on all sides. The wrinkles in Kurt’s forehead deepened. He must be thinking of how easy it would be for these people to be attacked. There aren’t even any guards. They get strange looks as they walk between the huts. Eventually, they run into a woman that makes eye contact with them. 

“What are you doing here?! You are in a hidden village, a sacred village! The renaigse have no place here.”

“I seek an audience with the mistress of wisdom, the tierna harh cadachtas...Do you know where I can find her?”

“The Tierna is in her home, she goes, she comes as her heart desires! Only her voglendaig must know…And if I knew where she was, it’s not me who is going to tell a renaigse! Go away, leave me alone now, I have much to do! The great hunt is coming!”

They were met with similar conversations throughout the village. No one would tell them where the tierna harh cadachtas was. They needed to find her voglendaig.

They found the man by a larger hunt near the side of the village. His name was Ongos. The man, like the rest of the villagers, refused to tell them where she was, but at least he offered them a chance to change his mind. They needed to retrieve Ongos’ seal, find a lost old man, and help the villagers prepare for the Great Hunt. 

Alexandre looks at Captain Vasco. “How good are you at fixing bells?” 

Vasco raises one eyebrow. “De Sardet, I’m tone-deaf.”

Kurt lets out a deep laugh. 

“And you get to deal with the old man.” Alexandre says to Kurt.

That shut him up.   
____________________________________________

“Greenblood!” Kurt runs up to him as they reenter the village from the hunting course. Siora and Aphra walk behind him. They had divided and conquered the villagers’ tasks to save time. Siora and Aphra went to the river’s edge to get Ongos’ seal while Vasco and himself fixed the chimes along the Great Hunt. 

And Kurt…

“Did you know, Alexandre, that there are six different varieties of herbs with blue flowers here?” Kurt quips. “Because I do...I’ve been picking them all bloody day for a blind, herb gatherer!” 

The corner of Siora’s mouth trembles in an effort not to laugh. Aphra looks between them all in amusement.

“So you found the old man then?” Alexandre asks, an innocent look on his face. 

“Found him, tracked down every plant in Teer Fradee for him. What do I know about herbs? It was blind leading the blind out there.”

Captain Vasco looks at him strangely. “Kurt? Aren’t you color blind?”

“Exactly!” Kurt throws up his hands in frustration.

Despite Kurt’s show, when they report to a villager about the old man, Kurt gets a sheepish look on his face.

“It seems like it would be the right time for him to take on an apprentice, someone to help him on his walks.”

Armed with the location of the tierna, they leave the village. It put them all in good humor to be helpful to the people here. 

“Why didn’t you tell them that their herb gatherer was blind?” asks Alexandre.

“As age gains ground, pride is often all that a man is allowed to keep.” explains Kurt. 

“I knew I pegged you for a soft one,” Aphra says.

“Shut it, lion,” growls Kurt, but there is little venom in his words.   
_________________________________________________-

They have to follow Ongos’ instructions carefully as they move through the forest. One missed landmark and they could easily get lost.

They reach the clearing and see a woman resting underneath a giant tree. She lies curled up next to one of those venomous, reptilian creatures, her head rests on its tail. Several other beasts surround the tree napping. 

When she hears them, she snaps her head up. She gets up quickly and taps the beast on its head to wake it up.

_Well, that’s just great._

The creature roars at them as they take another step, displaying its canines. But it doesn’t attack. She has complete control of it. 

“You are not welcome here, renaigse.” 

His eyes are drawn to the woman. Like many of her people, plant-like roots emerge from her hair. Her hair is green, which is a new one. Is it dye? Or is that part of her bond?

“I regret troubling your rest. My name is De Sardet, I am a Legate of the Congregation of Merchants.” 

“Mev, daughter of Morrigen, daughter of Cerdwin. What is a legate and what could he want from me?” 

“I am an emissary, a representative of my nation. I have come to speak to you about a cure.”

“Of what cure do you speak?” She looks him up and down. “You do not show signs of sickness…”

“I am not, but on our continent many people are dying from a terrible plague. We have named the sickness the malichor, and none of our doctors have been able to heal anyone taken ill. We have heard talk from some of your people of a cure that is so powerful that it can heal almost anything. You would be…”

“You must share with us the formula, too many lives are at stake!” exclaims Aphra.

Mev glares at her. “You come here to my home, and you command me to help you? Arrogance! Renaigse…”

Alexandre attempts to save face. “Please forgive us, I beg your pardon, we have seen so many people die of this affliction. This miraculous cure that we heard talk of, could you share the formula with us?”

Mev looks between them in wonder. “You are either completely crazed or foul liars. None of this makes sense.”

“But I…”

“Enough! I have lost enough time with your lies and your foolish thoughts.”

 _No, please,_ Alexandre thinks, _that can’t be it._

“I do not know what you truly want from me, but I will not be used like some puppet.”

And just like that, Mev waves her hand and the beasts charge at them. They have no choice but to fend for themselves as she runs in the opposite direction.

Alexandre tries not to let panic cloud his judgement in the fight. He can’t lose her!

Once they dispose of the creatures, they sprint in the direction Mev went. They follow the trail until they reach a door similar to that of the Cave of Knowledge. An altar lies in front, but they know not if the offering is the same. 

“Dammit!” shouts Alexandre. 

“Perhaps...there is only one way in?” suggests Aphra

“Ongos.” Siora suggests, “He would know of the offering.”

“Right.” Alexandre catches his breath. “Kurt, Vasco, you two stay here to watch the door. We’ll go back to talk to Ongos.” 

He takes a couple deep breaths. He’s going to be doing a lot of running today.  
______________________________________________________

“If she chose to follow the sacred passage then it is that she had nothing more to say to you…Why would I share with you understanding of the ritual that protects her ”

Alexandre could pull his hair in frustration. 

“I promise that I mean her no harm, I just need to expose as best I can the problem at hand. Her help is truly necessary, thousands of lives are at stake...”

Maybe it’s the desperation that leaked into his voice, because Ongos looks at him in pity. “Tell me more?” he gently asks. 

“My people have fallen prey to a serious illness. Which has almost certainly taken my mother by now.” _An illness that will take Constantin if I do not find the cure._ “If we do not quickly find a remedy, we shall all follow her to the grave. But the tierna harh cadachtas can help us, we are sure of that. She will know of a remedy able to heal this sickness that plagues us.” 

“Your quest seems noble and with great respect for the life of all…”

The man goes into the hut for a moment before returning. He hands a small bag to Alexandre. He opens it to find several small seeds inside the bag. They are of a different variety than what the Cave of Knowledge required. 

“You must feed the offering ward to enter into the passage and meet her once again.” 

Alexandre sighs in relief. “Thank you, thank you for this.”

The three of them turn to run back to the doorway. They hear Ongos call out to them, “The place you enter is ripe with dangers, renaigse! Be wary!”  
________________________________________________________

On the other side of the passage, the forest is somehow even thicker. Thankfully, Mev can be found in a clearing in the wood.

She is not alone.

They arrive just in time to see her running as a Bridge Alliance soldier stalks toward her, preparing his rifle. 

“Nooo!” Alexandre calls out as the rifle goes off.

Mev falls. 

Their only chance. 

Alexandre doesn’t let himself go there yet. They didn’t know if she was dead. 

To his relief, Mev gets back up and starts to stumble forward. The soldier starts to sprint towards her at the same time they do. He gets there first and grabs her by the leg, pulling her back. He disposes of his rifle and grabs for his pistol. There is no way he will miss her this time, he is too close. 

Aphra stops to pull out her own rifle, lining up the shot, but Alexandre knows it’ll be too late. 

In the next instance, all hell breaks loose. 

The soldier is tossed high into the air as a Nadaig charges into the clearing. He’d recognize it from anywhere. It’s the same creature that was burned in the main square of San Matheus. On its head it yields massive horns. The man falls to the ground with a loud thud.

Then Mev calls out to it in the native tongue and the Nadaig turns to them.

“No! Mev, we are not your enemy!” Alexandre calls out. He doesn’t want to kill this creature, not this one. He’s better than the Ordo Luminis. 

Mev doesn’t hear them. 

Alexandre has no choice but to draw out his gun.

 _I’m sorry._  
______________________________________

Alexandre stares down at the body of the fallen nadaig with a vacant look on his face. 

“Na! Na! Na tegeud dem! Na vardo abalau!” Mev sprints towards the fallen beast and embraces it in her arms. Her body is wracked with sobs. 

Mad with grief she walks towards Alexandre, a murderous look in her eyes. He aims the same gun that killed the marvelous creature on her.

“We didn’t want this fight!” 

She doesn’t stop.

_Don’t make me do this, damn you!_

A gunshot resounds through the glade and Alexandre feels his heart in his throat as he sees Mev hit the ground. 

The alliance soldier isn’t dead. He stands behind her, rifle raised and breathing heavy.

Alexandre looks down at Mev’s body in shock before looking back at the soldier.

“Why?” he gasps and then louder, “WHY?”

“In order to capture and extract from her what we need. To examine her, dissect her if necessary..” he responds in a clinical voice, as if Mev is nothing more than an object. “You have done us a great service, guiding us directly to her.”

_Wait, what?_

He did this? He was responsible.

Constantin was going to die. Because of him.

“Are you saying that….” He feels a panic attack coming on.

“Even if the creature has concocted some remedial potion, it is not the song we came for...but the bird. She leads the sorcerers of this island, she knows how they transform, and from where their powers originate. Our scientists think that the remedy is there, in their pseudo-magic, and in their mutation. Thank you for bringing her to us, and ridding us of the monster.”

“Do you THINK I’m going to allow you to manipulate me?”

“I don’t think anything.” the man replies nonchalantly. “Apologies, excellency, but you are going to die tragically from a stray bullet intended for the monster. It was such a pleasure to”

His head explodes, showering Alexandre in blood. His eyes widen and he gasps as he takes a step back from the falling body. His ears are ringing due to the proximity of the blast. He turns to his left to see smoke rising from Aphra’s rifle. 

Siora looks at the woman in shock, “Aphra…”

The scholar doesn’t respond. She appears shocked herself. She’s frozen in place. 

“Greenblood!” calls Kurt, “She’s alive.” His call breaks her out of it. 

“Oh thank goodness.” 

They run to Kurt as the captain picks up Mev’s body. “She’s unconscious.” 

“We need to bring her back to her village, she needs to be tended to.”  
___________________________________________

Alexandre paces back and forth in the hut as Siora does her work. The rest of the companions wait outside the hut with Ongos. 

When she backs away, he asks her, “Is she going to be alright?” 

“Yes, she will heal. They were not shooting to kill her. And we are resistant, you know? The bond empowers us, it gives us the vigor of animals, the resilience of trees. It is undoubtedly for that reason that your Alliance is so interested in us.”

At that moment, Mev gasps awake. She grabs Siora’s arm and pulls herself up. When she sees him, she is furious. Instantly roots surround him. His sword is laid against the wall of the hut, much too far for him to get before the roots would get him. He’s seen Siora crush a man with these very roots. 

“Na! Tierna harh! He does not mean to harm you!” Siora pleads. 

The roots take hold of his legs. They protest in pain as the roots tighten around them.

“Please!” cries Siora, “Let me…”

Mev pushes her out of the way and approaches him menacingly. The roots climb to his throat, making it hard to breathe.

“What do you want from me, renaigse?”

 _I just want to save him._ he thinks. His vision starts to go fuzzy. 

“We were manipulated by the Alliance. We had no idea that they sought to capture you. We believed their fable of a miraculous remedy. The man that shot at you is in no condition to come back and bother you. And their governor will have explaining to do.”

The vines around his neck loosen, they start to unwind. 

“I suppose I should thank you for having pulled me from their claws and bringing me here.”

The roots and vines return to the earth. Mev pants from the exertion. 

“There is indeed a remedy, but I doubt that I can do anything against this sickness that you describe. I don’t know it, and I don’t see how I could create a remedy that would heal it.”

“Perhaps you could try? We are desperate.”

“This remedy was prepared for a precise purpose. To heal those who escaped the claws of the Alliance. These monsters capture the sin ol menaui and torture them, bleed them, put things in their veins. Those that do escape are in such agony that our care and comfort are not enough to mend them. That’s why I made this remedy. Not for your malichor. My people have never fallen prey to such sickness.”

“How can you be so sure? Perhaps it’s your tremendous resistance that protects you from their sickness.”

“Perhaps. En on mil frichtimen protects us all.”

_That name again._

“En on mil frichtimen?”

“God of a thousand faces in your tongue. The one, and many who protects us, and our island. They and we are tied and bound, as they are tied and bound to you. Their generosity to our people is infinite. But the crimes of the renaigse enrage it. After all, perhaps your malichor is their vengeance.”  
_____________________________________________

The next day they leave the forest to finally return home to New Serene. It is about time that they checked in with Constantin about all that they had learned. 

“This is strange…” ponders Alexandre, “the two tracks that we followed have led us to the same name…En on mil frichtimen...”

“The god of a thousand faces...But I don’t believe he is the origin of your sickness.” Siora says. “He protects us, he watches over us!” 

“Precisely. We know that the Congregation came to this island long ago, a lot longer than we first thought. The malichor could be a consequence of that first attempt to colonize. A curse cast at the epoch, brought back by the first defeated colonists. After all, is it not also the origin of the first guardians of the native legends? Either way, one thing is certain...If there is something, or someone on this island powerful enough to heal the malichor, it is certainly him. We need to bring this news back to Constantin. Even if we don’t have a remedy yet, he will be happy to know that we have made progress.”


	18. No Regrets

When Constantin comes to, he is in his bed. The room is dark, the curtains are drawn on the windows. A soft clinking can be heard in the corner of the room. His muscles are heavy, they protest when he pushes himself up into the sitting position. At the motion, he feels a wave of nausea. He lets out a weak moan. The clinking stops. 

“Easy, renaigse.” A nativeman moves to his side. He puts the back of his head against Constantin’s forehead. It feels familiar. 

“Who are you?”

“Catasach,” he answers simply.

It all comes back to him. The intense pain, knives in his veins. Alex running in with the man with a monster’s head. 

A mask, it turns out. It now sits on a nearby table. 

“Alex?” Constantin asks.

“He left a couple of weeks ago. He said the lions may have found plants in the valley which could help you. He will return.”

The man goes to the corner of the room and back again with a small vial. 

“Drink,” he instructs.

Constantin drinks down the vial, expecting the worst. But it surprisingly tastes like ginger. It cuts through the nausea. 

“Thank you.” 

“Hmm.”

The islander...Catasach returns to his table to work. Constantin watches him as he cuts up leaves and puts them in a pot of hot water. As it heats it releases a pleasant, crisp smell. 

“You said they left weeks ago? Have I been asleep this whole time?”

“More or less.” Catasach responds without looking up from his work. “Sleep is nature’s gift to heal us.”

“And those didn’t have anything to do with it.” Constantin asks, indicating the plants and fungi littering the workstation the man made for himself in his room. 

“Sometimes...” the man’s eyes twinkled, “nature needs a little convincing.”

“Hmm.”

The door opens to reveal Sir de Courcillon. He is pleased to see Constantin conscious.

“Constantin, thank goodness. I am so glad to see that you are awake.”

“Yes, well, I suppose you’ve come to usher me back to work? We can’t let the malichor settle disputes on which farmer should get the fruit? Is it the one that owns the tree or the one that owns the land upon which the fruit fell? I can never remember.” 

Catasach chuckles in the corner.

“Good to see that you are as well humored as ever, my lord. But no, there is no need to rush. Lady Morange has been stepping in for the time being. Although, Catasach tells me that as long as you keep to a schedule, you will be able to return to work at your earliest convenience.”

“I don’t even know you, Catasach, and I may hate you.” Constantin jests. 

The man pours him a cup from the pot. He offers it to Constantin. Constantin wonders if this one will have the same pleasant ginger taste. He takes a sip. Instantly, he spits it out. His eyes start to water and he gags at the aftertaste. 

“A word of advice, renaigse. Don’t be rude to your healer.” 

He thinks the two of them will get along just fine.   
___________________________________________________

Just as Catasach predicted, Constantin was able to go back to work in a few days. He tired easily and the pain was still there, thrumming under the surface. But Catasach’s elixirs and well placed naps kept him going. Some days he even felt normal, until he looked in the mirror and saw the scars looking back at him. 

He hated the way other’s eyes would skirt all over his face, not sure of where to look. As if someone could get the malichor just by looking at it. The number of visitors to court drastically decreased. 

It was a constant reminder that he was on borrowed time. 

There were some benefits to the extra time. When he felt strong enough for it, Catasach would walk with him out in the mansion’s gardens. A table was set up for them in his favorite part of the garden amongst the young conifers. He taught Catasach cards. It was only after three days that the older man beat him every time. 

“I swear, you are cheating.”

“Or maybe you are simply terrible at cards, renaigse.”

“I’ll have you know that I once won a man’s entire estate in a game.”

“Was this man drunk?”

“No!....maybe.”

The conversations would always bounce back and forth as such and Catasach would let out that deep laugh of his that made Constantin feel warm inside. He was starting to crave that laugh. He also craved the silent looks of approval after he made particular decisions in court.

He ate them up like a starving man. 

His father never gave him such approval. 

_____________________________________________

Father Petrus returns to New Serene alone. Constantin is glad to see the familiar face, but admittedly disappointed that he is alone.

“What news of my cousin, Father?”

“He will be longer than expected, my lord. The Bridge Alliance follows a rumor that an islander has created a remedy for all diseases. The tierna harh cadachtas, they called her.”

“Do you know of this tierna harh cadacthas?” Constantin asks Catasach.

“Yes. The tierna is our highest sage. She has a rare and strong bond to Teer Fradee.”

“Is it possible that she has a cure?”

“I doubt that she seeks to cure your malichor. I doubt she even knows of it. But, if she has created a remedy for all ailments...it is possible,” the man wonders. 

Constantin nods. If anyone could convince this wise woman to help them, it was Alexandre.

“Anything else you can tell me, bishop Petrus? Is Alexandre in good health?”

“He is in good health, maybe not getting enough sleep perhaps.” The old man pauses and gives Constantin a pointed look, “He worries for you, my lord.” 

Constantin frowns and looks toward the window. 

“Although he has had some new company of late to lift his spirits.”

Constantin whips his head back to the older man. 

“What do you mean?”

“One of the scholars from the Bridge Alliance now joins him on his journey. The two talked for quite a long time into the evening. Although I do not trust the alliance, I must admit, the two have many interests in common.”

“Interests?”

“A love for zoology and botany. You know how Alexandre goes on.” 

“Yes....quite.”

A prickle of annoyance rests in the back of Constantin’s head. He recognizes the feeling. But he kicks himself mentally. He has no right to be jealous of Alexandre. If what the father says is true, he should be happy for him. It was about time someone appreciated his cousin in that way. 

“I would dare say, though, that she is not his type,” says the Father.

He looks up to Father Petrus and sees the man looking at him with a slight tilt to his head, his eyes calculating, as if he is working out some interesting puzzle. 

It makes Constantin feel far too uncomfortable.

“Ahem...yes...well...if that is to be all, Father?”

“Of course, your highness.” The man gives a slight bow. “Catasach, I will have the plants from the valley delivered to you, along with notes taken by the scholars.”

The healer nods. He looks back and forth between Father Petrus and Constantin.   
When the man leaves the room, Constantin stands up. “I think it is time I got some fresh air, eh, Catasach?”

“Of course, renaigse.”  
_____________________________________________

Catasach watches Constantin as he sits next to them at their table in the garden. The young man has his eyes closed and is breathing in the cool air. 

He takes a moment to look over the boys’ face. It is still attractive, despite the scars from the disease that ails him. He’d dare say he was quite the catch before. 

Catasach hasn’t known him for long, but he has grown fond of the young Lugeid blau. He has a wit and freedom about him that draws others in. Drew him in. With all the worries of the world these days, it was nice to laugh. And Constantin seemed to make it his quest to make the old healer laugh. Sometimes it surprised him that THIS was the leader of the Lugeid blau. He seemed so different from the men that Catasach had heard rumors about. He made mistakes. But he did his best to be fair towards his people. Catasach admired that. 

Catasach’s partner had passed long ago. They had never been fruitful. It was his love’s and so it was also his greatest pain. She would have loved Constantin. 

So when the young man sits for the better part of an hour with a frown on his face, Catasach is concerned. It isn’t a frown of pain. He’s seen the look on many a young man or woman that entered his hut for advice. 

“You are in love.”

Constantin’s eyes snap open and he looks at Catasach in alarm.

“What?”

“You are in love.” Catasach says again. “With De Sardet.”

“I...no...I...what makes you…” the young man splutters.

Catasach gives him a pointed look and Constantin’s shoulders drop.

“I don’t want to lose him.” he says bitterly. 

“He loves you.”

It’s not a question. Catasach saw the way the on ol menwai looked at Constantin when they had arrived in New Serene. He couldn’t get to his side fast enough. 

“It’s a difficult situation, my friend. We cannot be together.” 

“You cannot be together…?”

Constantin just shakes his head no. 

“Because...you are…” he searches for the right word, “cousins.”

Constantin shakes his head yes. 

“But...he is not blood?”

Constantin shakes his head no. 

“Your people are so confusing.”

Constantin throws up his hands in frustration. “We were raised together. And only a select few know that his true parents are natives. For all intended purposes, he is my cousin and so no, according to him, we cannot be together. It would be seen as...deviant.” 

“According to him?”

Constantin swallows. “There was one night that we almost...but he came to his senses. And he is right, of course. Our people are counting on us to find a cure for the malichor. We can’t do that if they don’t trust us. If they think we are...compromised, in any way.” 

“Hmm, if I may, renaigse. What makes you think that your people would have to know about a relationship between you and the on ol menawi?”

“I...there is no way that we wouldn’t be found out! I mean, you and Sir de Courcillon already know!”

“Because we know you. We stay with you. I have seen how the people of this place interact with you, renaigse. Do you not think that they would help you?”

“I’m sorry, are you suggesting that all of you would help me have an affair? That you’d all keep it a secret? Why?”

“I saw the way he looked at you, renaigse. And if no remedy is found for what ails you...Trust someone whose time with love was ended far too quickly, is it not worth trying for?”

The young man doesn’t respond.

“I will fetch you your tea.” Catasach tells him and he leaves the young man alone for a while. The young man has much to think about. And it seems that he needs to have a conversation with Sir de Courcillon.  
____________________________________________

When Alexandre and his companions return, they are a little worse for wear. The quest to find this tierna harh cadacthas must not have been an easy one. Alexandre has shadows under his eyes that were not there before. Overall, nothing a couple of days of rest would not cure. The corners of his eyes wrinkle as he smiles at Constantin. 

_Gods, he is beautiful._ Constantin thinks. 

“My dear cousin! Come closer, what news do you bring?”

His cousin turns to a lovely young woman standing beside him. She is dressed in a traditional Bridge Alliance uniform.

“Allow me to present, Aphra, an emissary of the Bridge Alliance. She is an imminent Naturalist who studies local flora, in an effort to find a remedy.” 

_I would dare say, though, that she is not his type_

He repeats the words in his head like a lifeline.

“Your Excellency, it is a great honor!”

Her skin is smooth where his is now scarred and blotched. He mentally repeats what Father Petrus said again.

“You were part of Governor Burhan’s lost expedition if I’ve understood correctly, were you not?”

The young woman looks at him a little surprised. She hadn’t expected him to know of her. 

“Yes, and our research would have borne fruit if it hadn’t been so brutally interrupted.”

“I can only imagine! Nevertheless, you are most welcome, your great learning will certainly prove useful!” He sees Catasach smile out of the corner of his eye. The healer approves. 

“I implore you, my dear cousin, do continue! We are eager to hear your news!”

“I wanted to inform you of our progress made in the attempt to discover a cure. As you advised, I followed the leads shared by our allies, none of which led anywhere. However, they both pointed in the same direction, towards a sort of god that the natives worship. They call him en on mil frichtimen, the god of many faces. He is very powerful and protects the island.” He feels Catasach tense beside him. 

“How can you be sure that it’s not some sort of myth? Even a superstition?”

“I saw it, with my own eyes, take shape during a ritual. It is possible that the malichor is the expression of its vengeance.”

“You are referring to the secret we unearthed? The entire continent is paying today for the errors of our grand-parents...It is a terrifying perspective!”

“But if it were true, he must also be able to help us heal!”

Constantin turns to his caretaker. “Catasach, my friend, I saw you flinch hearing that name, you are familiar with this being?”

“All of the doneigada know him, even in their flesh. He is Teer Fradee. It is with him we make our bond. But I would be surprised that he is at the origin of your sickness. He is generous and only rages when attacked and wounded.”

“I fear that that is exactly what we did.” he turns back to Alexandre. “Cousin, I know that I ask too much of you, but I have no choice. You need to go and find this magical being.”

His very order seems preposterous even to himself, but what choice do they have? 

“I won’t survive for much longer...Beg him, offer him all that he wants, but we must have this remedy…” then much quieter, “I need it.”

“I shall do all in my power, Constantin, I promise you. But I need to find a way to communicate with him. I was already sent to fight a guardian under that pretext and it almost killed me.” 

“There is a way,” Catasach offers, “A way so sacred that even we, doneigada cannot use it. En on mil frichtimen decides. It is not I who judges your intentions. Go and find Glendan, the sage of the village council of Dorhadgenedu. If he deems you worthy he will guide you.” The man reaches his neck and reveals a hidden talisman there. He gives it a tug to pull it off of his neck. “To be able to speak to him, you must present this seal. It will prove that you are the friend of a Member of the Council.” 

“I had no idea that such a talisman was required.” wonders Siora. She sounds unsure. 

“You have not yet been named mal of your clan, Siora, daughter of Bladnid. When this has come to pass we will give you a seal that allows you to give voice to your friends when visiting the council.”

“It is a symbol of great trust. Why are you awarding me this?”

Catasach looks at Constantin and back to Alexandre again. Alexandre’s eyes flicker to Constantin as well and then a small smile graced his lips. He knows the answer before Catasach says it.

“I do not wish to lose the soul who has put their life in my hands. And also...You have proven you are our friend, back there, in my village.”

Constantin is touched by Catasach’s words. “Thank you, Catasach. I will not forget this honor you bestow upon me…And thank you dear cousin, for everything.”

Alexandre makes to leave for his own home, to rest and get cleaned up after the long journey.  
….

“And cousin?”

He turns back around.

“After you have refreshed yourself, will you stop by again? We have much more to discuss.”

Alexandre gives him a questioning look, but he nods. 

Constantin’s heart beats faster in his chest.

___________________________________________

Constantin is a bundle of nerves. He paces back and forth in his room as he waits for Alexandre to return. Occasionally, Catasach will hand him a vial and he will toss it down. 

“Calm yourself, renaigse!”

“I have no idea what you mean, my friend. I am the very definition of calm.”

A knock sounds on the door and he drops the vial in his hand. Thankfully it doesn’t break, but it hits the ground with a resounding clink. 

Catasach quirks an eyebrow at him and goes to answer the door. 

Alexandre enters the room. He has washed and changed into clean clothes. He is dressed plainly in a white shirt and trousers. The sleeves of the shirts are rolled up to his elbows. It’s been hot today.

“Cousin! Welcome!” Constantin eagerly greets him.

Alexandre gives him a wide smile at his enthusiasm. “It is good to see you are feeling better, Constantin.”

“No small part to our friend here.” Constantin gestures to Catasach.

“Is the pain gone?” he asks the both of them.

“No.” Catasach answers for him. “It is particularly hard in the morning. He whines like a young pup.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Constantin sputters. 

Alexandre looks at him in alarm. “Should you not be resting then?”

“I am fine, cousin.” Constantin argues, giving Catasach a pointed look. 

“If you say so. Just...please take it easy...You wanted to see me?” he asks. 

“I…”

Catasach makes a point to close his journal with a loud snap. They both stare at him as he turns to them. “I will leave you now. I have been told by my friends here that the bar serves something called a ‘grilled cheese’.” 

Alexandre motions to Constantin, “But...what if he needs something.”

“I daresay he is in good hands. Good night, on ol menawi.” 

The door shuts behind him and the two cousins stare for a moment at the door. 

“That was...odd?” says Alexandre

“Yes...quite…”

He turns back to look at Constantin and a blush starts to form on his face. 

They haven’t been alone since the night of the coup.

“You are certain you are alright?” Alexandre asks softly.

Constantin’s heart clenches. He gives Alexandre a smile. 

“Never better, cousin. Come! Tell me more of your grand adventure. I have been so very restless as of late.”

Hours have passed and the sun has set, but for the first time in days, Constantin doesn’t feel so tired. They sit on the bed, Constantin resting against the headboard and Alexandre with his feet hanging off the sides. Alexandre tells him as much as he can remember from the rescue of the scholars to Yewan’s bond and finally he tells him of Mev’s rescue. 

“And then these great vines erupted out of the ground!” Alexandre recounts in wonder. “They wrapped around my throat before I could blink…” He pulls down his collar to show Constantin the markings. “Then I…”

He trails off when he notices Constantin’s eyes glued to the mark on his collarbone. His lips slightly parted. Alexandre licks his lips and Constantin’s eyes dart back up to follow the motion. 

“Then what did you do?” Constantin asks. His voice is low. 

They had been here before. Alexandre remembers the flash of hurt on his cousin’s face as he pushed him away. He doesn’t know if he would have the strength to do it again. 

Then there was the night of the coup. He had allowed himself to kiss him. There were too many things hitting the both of them all at once that night; he didn’t even think before he did it. 

He wonders when Sir de Courcillon will approach him about that little breach in court edicitte. 

He probably shouldn’t be alone right now with Constantin in hindsight. He had thought about making up some excuse to not return to the mansion alone. But as soon as the invitation was out of Constantin’s mouth, he knew he would come. 

The candlelight illuminated the scarring on the right side of Constantin’s face. Alexandre wanted to reach out and trace them, but he didn’t know if they hurt. 

Catasach said that he was still in pain. 

He shouldn’t be here. Constantin should be getting some rest. 

But when Constantin’s voice drops two octaves he feels pinned to the bed.

He licks his lips and feels heat spread through him as Constantin’s eyes follow the motion. 

“Then I...convinced her to tell us what she knew about the remedy and we all left with our lives…” 

Constantin nods with a small frown. He shuffles from his position on the bed to get closer to Alexandre. He sat by his side, slightly behind him. 

Alexandre’s heart drums in his chest as Constantin moves the collar of his shirt to again reveal the bruising beneath. His breath hitches when he traces the pattern with his fingers. 

“Did it hurt?”

“No...it just felt like pressure. Hard to explain.”

“Hmm” He continues to trace the pattern around his neck to where it leads under his ear. 

Alexandre grabs his wrist and pulls his hand away.

“Constantin,” Alexandre breathes out. “Stop. We...we talked about this.”

Constantin appears to snap out of it. He looks down at his own hand. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

Alexandre shakes his head, “No. no. It’s not your fault. I should have known better than to come.” 

“I was the one that asked you to.”

….

They are silent for a moment. Constantin fiddles with a stray thread on the comforter. Then he looks up at Alexandre with a decisive look. 

“I don’t want to spend my last days avoiding each other because of this, Alexandre.”

Alexandre’s eyes widened at the statement. 

“No. You will NOT think like that. I’m not going to let you die, Constantin.”

“I know…” Constantin says softly, “But I would much rather you also let me live.”

_shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t_

The gears grind in Alexandre’s head while Constantin waits patiently for his answer. What if they never did find this en on mil frichtimen? If these really were his last days with Constantin, how did he want to spend them? 

But if anyone with an ulterior motive were to find out...

_Tell him, no. It’s for his own good. It’ll only hurt you both._

“We would have to be careful,” Alexandre breathes out. 

_Wait. What?_

Constantin stares at him with wide eyes before something switches. Then he’s giving him a teasing smile that makes Alexandre’s heart race even faster. 

“If it's any comfort, the two men that are most likely to discover this already know about it.”

“What?!” 

“Calm yourself, cousin. Catasach and De Courcillon are good friends. They have promised me their word. They will protect us from the court vipers.” 

“You’ve already talked with them about this?!” Alexandre exclaims. 

“They confronted me, actually.”

Alexandre groans and puts his head in his hands. 

“What are we getting ourselves into Constantin?”

He doesn’t see the sly smile on Constantin’s face. 

He stills when he feels a puff of air on his ear. 

“Technically, dear cousin, we haven’t gotten into anything yet. But aren’t you dying to find out?”

Alexandre can feel the blood travel south. Every single thought and dream flash before his eyes. 

Gods, he wants this. 

But he doesn’t quite know what to do. He’s never done this before. 

“I...Constantin, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Constantin shuffles behind him and gently pulls him back so that he can lean against his chest. Alexandre can feel Constantin’s heart racing against his back. 

“True. I’m a little more limited than before. Do not worry, cousin, I know my limits. But you? You’ll tell me if you don’t like something?” Constantin whispers before moving to pepper soft kisses along Alexandre’s neck. He follows the trail left by the vines. His hands move to Alexandre’s shoulders to gently massage them. Alexandre feels his body turn into mush. He leans back further into his cousin’s chest. His breath becomes more labored. 

Eventually, Constantin’s hands move from his shoulders. One of them travels upward to wrap gently around his throat. The other travels south to explore his chest in tiny circles. It pauses for a moment before he passes his thumb over a nipple. The sudden burst of electricity causes Alexandre to jerk and cry out.

“I’ve had plenty of time to think about this, Alex. What I would do to you if this body still had enough energy to let me…” Constantin whispers before nipping at his ear. Goosebumps erupt on Alexandre’s arms and his eyes flutter closed. “But alas, since it does not, I’ll just have to tell you, won’t I?”

Alexandre grasps at the sheets beneath him. He bites his lip.

When he doesn’t respond, Constantin keeps going. 

“My knees are a little stiff these days, but as soon as they are not, I’ll get down on my knees in front of you right here and spread you open. I’ll kiss you just like this down there.” The kisses on his neck become more heated as Constantin adds suction. 

“Fuck, Constantin,” Alexandre exhales shakily.

“Eventually you’ll be begging me to swallow you whole. I bet you taste so good, Alex.”

Constantin’s hands make quick work of the buttons on his shirt. Alexandre leans forward slightly as he removes it and tosses it to the side of the room. He peppers his back with gentle kisses before pulling Alexandre back against him again. He doesn’t take his time before going to his belt. 

“I had a dream once that I tied you up with this belt on this very bed. I took you in my hand until you were moaning for it. I pleasured you right up until the edge and then I stopped. And then I did it again, and again, and again until you were screaming.”

Every hair on Alexandre’s body stands at attention. _Gods._ Would he want that? A shiver runs through him at the thought and his cock gives a twitch.

“But I suppose that scenario doesn’t even come close to making sense if you don’t even know what it’s like. Tell me cousin, did you ever touch yourself after we talked before your trip to San Matheus?” he asks. 

“….or do you still think it filthy,” he adds in a whisper. 

Alexandre is putting all of his energy into not hyperventilating. He is painfully hard and every image Constantin portrays sears him. His cousin has always had a way with words. Should have known he’d use them as a weapon in bed. 

He gasps when Constantin delivers a hard bite to his shoulder. 

“I need an answer, Alex.”

“I did! Gods, I did.”

Constantin rewards him with a soft kiss to the new mark he made on Alexandre’s skin. 

“What did you think of? The first time?” 

He reaches for the laces of Alexandre’s trousers. He unties them easily. How can he even think straight enough to do that? Alexandre moans as some of the pressure is taken off of his cock. A hand dips inside teasing the hem of his undergarments. 

“Please....Constantin.”

“What did you think of?”

He lets out a small moan. 

“You...fuck, Constantin, I thought of you.”

Constantin’s breath hitches and he uses a hand to turn Alexandre’s face towards his own. He collides their mouths together. Alexandre gasps into it, and then there’s a tongue in his mouth. Alexandre doesn’t quite know what to do so he focuses on breathing as Constantin runs his tongue slowly over his own. Gods, this is nothing like the kisses he’s been told about. Nothing like the gentle kisses he’s seen between lords and ladies. Is this what his cousin’s did to all those maidens he brags about? Constantin takes his time exploring his mouth. Alexandre gasps again when Constantin swipes his tongue against the sensitive roof of his mouth. He does it again before pulling away, Alexandre hears a needy whine. Did that come from him?

“I’ve wanted this for so long, cousin.” Constantin whispers against his lips. “I’ll never want anyone else.”

He doesn’t wait for Alexandre to respond as the hand teasing along the band of his pants reaches inside to take hold of him.

“Oh,” Alexandre exhales. He starts to bend over at the new sensation, so very different from when he touched himself. Constantin wraps a forearm around him to hold him in place. He uses his other hand to pull Alexandre out of his pants. He wraps his hand around him, but doesn’t move it.

“When you touched yourself, cousin, and thought of me. Was I doing this to you?”

“Damn your mouth, Constantin.” Alexandre hisses through his teeth. His eyes are glazed over and he’s sweating. It’s taking all his energy to not push forward. He knows he could, despite Constantin’s hold on him, but some side of him likes the feeling of being held down.

Constantin gives him a tight squeeze that makes Alexandre keen and his toes curl and he reaches up to grab purchase on the forearm holding him in place. 

“You were telling me how to do it,” he admits. Gods, it’s hard to breathe.

“And did you do good?”

_Such a good boy for me._

Alexandre can’t stop the desperate moan that comes out of him and Constantin’s eyes widen. When he realizes his reaction, Alexandre blushes deeply and turns his head away. Constantin doesn’t stop him, but takes the opportunity to return to his neck again. 

“Silly me, of course you did good. Gods, I wish I could have seen it.”

Constantin starts to slowly move his hand up and down. The affection in his voice is overwhelming. Alexandre feels drunk as Constantin starts to twist his hand up and down. He doesn’t notice the disappearance of Constantin’s forearm as his cousin reaches behind him to take his own cock out of his pants. He does notice it when the forearm returns to pull his body back as Constantin rocks against him. He gasps at the heat of his cousin against him. 

“Can you lift your hips up just a little, Alex?”

He doesn’t hear him the first time. When Constantin’s hand stops moving he lets out a breath.

“Wha..what?”

Constantin gives his ear a little nip. 

“Your hips. Can you hold them up? Put the rest of your weight against me. I’ll be fine.”

Alexandre doesn’t know why he is being asked to do this, but he trusts Constantin’s experience in this. He leans his shoulders against Constantin as a counterpoint to lift his hips slightly upward. He whines when Constantin completely removes his hand. Constantin chuckles at the noise and wrestles Alexandres pants further down to where they straddle his knees. 

“Sweet enlightened one, the wilderness is doing you good.” he hears Constantin say.. 

Constantin then moves himself forward so that he is farther under him.

“Good, Alex. Come down a little.”

Alexandre brings his hips down and gasps when he feels Constantin’s erection against his ass. Constantin has moved them so that he can rub himself between his crease. Constantin rests his chin against Alexandre’s shoulder as he rocks forward. His cock slides between his cheeks. His hand returns to Alexandre where he focuses on rubbing his thumb against the very tip.

“Oh my gods,” Alexandre gasps again. His head falls back against Constantin’s shoulder and he stares at the ceiling with his mouth open. Despite balancing his weight on his cousin, his legs start to shake. He feels his entire world start to tighten as he grabs Costantin around the wrist, not stopping his motion, but needing….needing something. Gods, it wasn’t even close to being like this by himself.

Constantin jerks him off with a tortuous pace. It’s not too slow to tease, but not nearly as fast as Alexandre would like at the moment. He feels like he has been on the precipice of falling for hours now. 

“Not long now, Alex, just a bit more.” Constantin’s words come out in pants. He feels his cousin speed up as he rocks against him. Occasionally, his cousin peppers more kisses and nips to his neck, but as his movements become more frantic, they become less frequent.

When Constantin removes his hand from Alexandre’s cock to take hold of his hips, Alexandre feels like he might scream in frustration if it were not for Constantin thrusting even harder upwards against him. The motion slides his cock against Alexandre’s most sensitive place, causing him to groan as he reaches back to take hold of Constantin’s hair with his hand.

With the absence of Constantin’s hand on him, he can focus and he hears Constantin murmuring little praises as he gets close.

“So fucking perfect, Alex. So good.”

Alexandre blushes and turns to look at Constantin’s face as his cousin ruts against him with abandon. Constantin’s eyes are closed. He could count his lashes. Alexandre doesn’t have time to think much else as Constantin lets out a deep moan and stills beneath him. Alexandre’s mouth parts in a soft gasp as he feels Constantin’s dick twitch against him and hot fluid hit his back. His cousin tucks his head against his neck and his hands hold him in a strong grip as he gently rocks against him until he has completely spent himself. Then he lets him go and rests against his shoulder. 

Alexandre tries to be patient, but after a while the absence of friction entirely starts to make him squirm. He starts to reach for himself when Constantin tsks and bats his hand out of the way.

“Constantin…” he starts to beg, “Constantin, please, I need…”

Constantin chuckles to himself. He moves backward, but before Alexandre can protest, he gently grabs his hips to sit him down on the bed against him once more.

“Oh, dear Alex, I know what you need.” He takes hold of Alexandre once more and begins that delicious twisting motion that has Alexandre’s eyes rolling backward. 

It’s everything and not enough all at once.

“Please…” he begs again.

He feels Constantin grin against his back.

“Are you sure, cousin? We could do this all night.”

It’s all he can do to shake his head back and forth. He feels his leg muscles starting to cramp as he tries to stay still. 

Constantin growls against him and he feels his cousin’s grip tighten. He starts to move his hand with increasing speed, causing Alexandre to cry out.

“Always working so hard to give me what I want,” Constantin says in awe. “Right now, I want you, cousin. I want you to cum. Will you do that for me? Will you be good for me now too?”

That’s all it takes as Alexandre feels electricity like nothing before running through him. He starts to bend into a bow and Constantin once again brings one arm around him to hold him in place, intensifying the sensations. He continues to gently stroke him through the orgasm that wracks Alexandre’s entire body. Eventually it becomes too much and Alexandre pulls at his hand with a whine as his body jerks away from the hands on his overstimulated cock. With one final squeeze and a kiss to the neck, Constantin pulls away. Alexandre falls backward against his chest and stares up at the ceiling with glazed eyes. 

He catches his breath as Constantin runs his fingers through his hair. It’s nice. And he feels his eyes grow heavy. 

“How was it?”

“I always knew you were wicked, Constantin, but that?” Alexandre lets out a small unbelieving laugh. 

“Hmph. Oh dear cousin, you have no idea how...wicked...I can be.”

Alexandre swallows at the response and his dick gives a twitch. He lets out an amused sound before a yawn takes over. Constantin smiles at him fondly. He stares for a moment and then a look of worry falls on him.

“You won’t regret it, will you?” 

Alexandre looks back at him with a small frown. He pushes himself back up so that they are level again. He gently caresses Constantin’s cheek with his palm. His cousin leans into it with a sigh. Alexandre musters up as much meaning as he can into his words. 

“Never,” he says.


	19. Bitterness

Alexandre wakes before Constantin the next day. He grimaces at the stick on his skin. They had fallen asleep before cleaning up after themselves. He stretches the length of his body while still lying down and turns to look at this cousin...step-cousin...ex-cousin? 

Constantin’s eyebrows furrow in sleep. Every once in a while a flicker of pain can be seen on his face. Alexandre’s heart drops. Would it be better to wake him or to let him sleep?

His body jolts when the door opens as Catasach enters the room with a tray of potions. They both freeze when they notice each other. 

Catasach recovers quickly. He looks between the two of them and gives Alexandre a knowing smile before walking the tray over to a nearby table. He then draws the curtains, allowing light to pass over Constantin’s face. His cousin begins to stir beside him, groaning at the sudden brightness. 

“Good morning Constantin. Alexandre.” Catasach greets them both, not looking at them as he begins to prepare Constantin’s morning tinctures. 

At the mention of both of their names, Constantin stiffens. His eyes suddenly open and he pulls himself up in the bed, wincing slightly at the pain the sudden movement causes. He does a double take, looking between Catasach’s back and Alexandre. Alexandre shrugs and shakes his head. As if HE knows what to do with this scenario. The only thing he can think of is to quickly pull the sheets up higher to cover the mess on his stomach. 

Catasach finishes his preparations and turns to give them a smile. 

“Well, I will leave you to him, on ol menawi. Make sure he drinks them all. Sometimes he tries to heal the plants in the room.” Catasach gestures to a dying plant on the bedside table. 

“I…” Alexandre clears his throat, his voice rusty. “I will, thank you…”

Catasach nods. And then leaves the room. 

The two men sit up in the bed for a moment, staring at the door. 

“Well…” Constantin finally says, “I dare say I found someone worse than you at knocking on doors.”

When Alexandre says nothing, Constantin looks at him. His cousin is looking at him with a mixture of mortification and amusement, shaking his head in disbelief. 

After a beat, the two of them burst out laughing. They carry on for a moment, laughing until Constantin starts to cough and grip his head in pain.

Alexandre’s laughter wanes. 

“Are you in great pain?” he asks. 

Alexandre leaves the bed to collect the medicine Catasach prepared for Constantin. As his back is turned, Constantin frowns. When he pictured waking up after a night with his dear Alex, this is not what he had in mind. He starts to feel sick from something new entirely. 

“This sickness is horrible, believe me.” Constantin spitefully answers. “Now I understand what your mother went through…” He takes a cup from Alexandre as his cousin returns to his side with the tray. He doesn’t hesitate to drink it down. The morning routine was best to get over with quickly. He replaces the cup to the tray and grabs another one, downing it like the first with a shudder of distaste. 

Alexandre simply watches him as he finishes his medicine. The thought occurs to Constantin, that he wishes Alex were not here for this, that he had left after their evening pleasures. The medicine, the harsh morning light on his scarred body, it all leaves a bitterness in his mouth, in his heart. He finishes the last concoction, placing the last cup down with almost too much force. It clangs on the tray. There is more silence between them. Darker this time. 

He suddenly turns, offering Alexandre a forced smile. “I’ll meet you downstairs then?” 

Alexandre is taken aback by the kurtness of it. It’s a clear dismissal, he knows it. 

“I...yeah, ok…” Alexandre awkwardly looks from him to around the room. He starts to collect his clothing, redressing silently. Constantin doesn’t watch him, but instead stares intently at the tray. 

It takes far too long for him to dress. And once fit for public eyes, Alexandre walks stiffly to the door. He turns back to look at Constantin as he reaches for the handle. Constantin still doesn’t look at him. If anything, his forced concentration on the tray turns into a glare. Alexandre opens his mouth to say something...anything, but when words don’t come he closes it. He simply nods to his cousin, opens the door, and leaves, closing it gently behind them. 

At the sound of the door clicking in place, Constantin waits for a moment. He holds his breath as he listens to Alexandre pause for a time behind the door and then finally to the sound of his footsteps moving down the hallway until he can hear nothing more than his own heart thudding far too loudly in his chest. His bottom lip starts to shudder and his eyes start to water, but he refuses to let himself cry and instead grits his teeth as he tosses the tray harshly against the wall. The cups shatter loudly as they crash on the floor. None of this is fucking fair. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. They didn’t deserve this. Why should they be punished for the actions of their ancestors?

Last night he had never felt more free. 

This morning he has never felt more in chains.


	20. Trials and Tribulations

“What news of Consantin?” Alexandre asks Mr. de Courcillon at the gate. The scholar greets them as they prepare to depart for the region of Dorgred. The company has just finished buying rations in town and are busy organizing their packs. Typically Constantin would see him off. Not today, it seems. 

“Resting, my lord.” The older man responds. “But he wanted to wish you all the grandest of adventures!” The man brandishes his hands outward as Constantin would have. 

Alexandre kneels with a frown and busies himself with his pack. He checks that Catasach’s talisman is stashed away for the third time. He has not seen his cousin since the morning he had left their...his bed. In the coming days he had returned to see him, but the guards at the door shook their heads. They would tell him Constantin was sleeping or not feeling well enough for company.

 _Do you regret it?_

...No

Who knows how much little time they had left? 

It was impossible to know what they would find in this mission to communicate with en on mil frichtimen. Nor did they know how long it would take. Perhaps they would find nothing at all and he would return to find Constantin bed-ridden and blind, his voice laced with fear as his mother’s had been. 

_“Now I know what your mother went through…”_ Constantin had said. 

He had seen the look in Constantin’s eyes. He had seen it in her eyes too. His cousin didn’t want pity. It was why Alexandre had left him that morning.

Now he wonders if it should have been the reason he stayed. To let the man know it was ok. It was his job to be there for him after all. 

He kept thinking that morning over and over in his mind. Which would have hurt worse? The hit to the man’s pride? Or to be alone? 

He doesn’t notice de Courcillon drawing near until a package is put in front of his face. 

”He did want me to give this to you. ‘For the journey’, he said.” 

Alexandre takes the package curiously. He hesitates for a moment, wondering if he should wait to open it. But de Courcillon gestures for him to do so. 

_Les Fables de la Fontaine_

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him as he sees the book. 

“Not the most challenging of reads as you are used to. But he hoped it would bring back some memories. The two of you begged me to read you ‘The Ass and the Gardner’ every night for a whole month, if I recall…that donkey never was satisfied with his master, each one worse than the last.”

Alexandre caresses the spine of the book as he turns it over in his hand. “I remember,” he replies fondly. “And Constantin would always say, ‘If the damn thing is smart enough to talk, why take a master at all?’” 

“I still have no idea where he got that mouth at such an age.”

Alexandre smirks and jerks his head towards Kurt. De Courcillon huffs in annoyance at the revelation. He looks like he is going to rip the captain a new one, but then thinks better of it. 

“Do not worry for your cousin,” Mr. de Courcillon says. “Catasach is taking good care of him. He is strong. Not to mention as stubborn as a donkey. He will greet you warmly upon your return.” His older teacher encourages him as he squeezes his shoulder.

He nods at the older man resolutely. 

He hopes the man’s words are true. 

“Tell Constantin that I’ll remember him fondly when I read about the Ass.” 

“I’ll make a point of it, my lord. 

_____________________________________________________

Glendan, the sage Catasach told them about, is an odd man. He speaks with little emotion and despite being blind, it feels like the old man can see everything. It’s unnerving. 

“Your merchant congregation sways me very slightly from my path, but you are a carants of Catasach. His trust in you makes me stop and look at you...What brings you here?”

“I seek a remedy. My cousin, as well as many other people on our island, suffer from a terrible sickness. We think that only en on mil frichtimen can help us find a cure.”

“Really? And Catasach sent you to see me?”

“He told me that the only way to meet with your god was to come and see you. You would judge our worthiness.”

“Judge your intentions. Yes, that I can do. But even if I should do this, you would have many trials to pass. For the path you seek to follow has only been tread but a very few times, and you are the first renaigse to set foot upon it. We must begin where everything begins. There is a trial. The trial of water. It will show us the reflection of your soul.”

_Is such a thing possible? How does one see a soul?_

“What must I do?”

“You must go to a cavern and tell me what you see on the seal you will find deep in its center.”

_It can’t be as simple as that._

“And this cavern is guarded I suppose?”

“That is true. But the simplest solution is not always the best. It is a path with many forks...I hope you will prove that you understand the spirit of our people and our island. Go now, show us your true face and return purified by the waters of the cavern...”  
___________________________________________________________

“It’s a rabbit.” 

“What?”

“A rabbit. I’m putting money on it.”

“Kurt, I haven’t the slightest idea of what you are talking about.” 

“Your true face, Green Blood!” 

“A rabbit?! You call Siora a she-wolf and I get a rabbit?”

“Take it as a compliment, lad! Bloody fast, they are. Darting to and fro. Just give em’ a sword and it's a spitting image. Could do worse. Vasco is betting on an owl.” 

Vasco whistles a tune, looking anywhere but Alexandre as the young man turns to glare at him.  
____________________________________________

“Forget what I said, your true face isn’t a rabbit. They have a much greater survival instinct than you do.” Kurt pants against a cavern wall. 

Alexandre can still feel his heart in his chest. Sneaking around to knock out an entire pack of ulgs in a dark cave with a sleeping potion may have been the craziest idea he has ever had. But he couldn’t bear to kill them, not after Glendan’s warning of several paths. Somehow barging into the cave and killing everything in sight didn’t seem like the wisest of actions. 

“A fox, perhaps.” Siora beams. She wipes the mud off her knees and uses her magic to light a torch, revealing more of the cavernous path. 

“Can we...hold back on the animal comparisons please?” 

After catching their breath, the company makes its way further into the cave. They wind through tight and seemingly endless tunnels, arriving in another chamber, just as big as the first. The drop down into the lower level of the chamber is doable, but it looks like a one way trip. The pit is well lit with lanterns, but it's too open for his comfort. Alexandre looks around at other options. The current path continues to wind around the chamber, but a sizable gap parts it in one spot. 

“Can we jump it?” Alexandre asks. 

Kurt snickers behind him and Alexandre swears he hears him say “rabbit” under his breath. Alexandre makes a mind to not elbow him. 

“You? Yes,” Father Petrus scoffs. “Me? I’m afraid those days are far gone, my son.” 

“Down it is then.” 

The company descend into the pit. They are greeted with ankle deep mud. It slows them as they make their way forward. Mushrooms and foreign plants line the walls and the air is thick with musk and foreign particles. Poor Aphra can’t stop sneezing. Father Petrus awkwardly offers her his handkerchief. Despite the discomfort, so far so good. 

Fifteen minutes in and Kurt lets out a sound of disgust. He uses his sword to remove a thick slime from his shoulder. 

“What the bloody hell is this?” He looks up for its source and his face grows pale. 

“...Um...Greenblood?” he whispers, pointing upward. 

Alexandre looks up and pales himself. 

A number of dosantats sleep above them on the ceilings. He signals at Siora to put out the light. The lanterns provide enough light to guide them through. All they have to do is move slow and steady, making no sudden…

Aphra sneezes.

 _Well, so much for not killing anything._

____________________________________________________________

They arrive at the last chamber covered in mud, blood, and filth. 

Within the chamber lies a circle of stones. What appears to be an altar lies in the middle. A crack in the wall allows a beam of light to hit its face. It reflects upon its surface. 

“May the Enlightened help us, what is it now…” Father Petrus sighs. A particularly nasty gash runs the length of his chin. 

“I do not know?” Alexandre says curiously. He is drawn towards the altar. The circle of stones is all too familiar. It is so similar to the lightning struck tree. Alexandre shudders at the memory of being the tree itself. The feeling of burning...Upon closer inspection, the altar is a basin filled with water. He instinctively reaches out to it.

“Careful! De Sardet!” shouts Vasco, grabbing his hands before he can touch the water. “Who knows what manner of trickery this is.”

“No,” interjects Aphra. “Look, the symbols around it. Given the islanders taste for rituals and enigmas, I think you should touch the water…”

“Are you mad, woman!” Petrus replies. “What if it’s poison? Or calls upon some manner of demon? The last time we saw this, it ravaged your very mind!”

“Do we have a choice?” sighs Alexandre. He looks around at them. Receiving no response, he squares his shoulders. “All right, get ready.” He prepares for pain as he sticks his hand into the water. 

This time there is no burning. Instead it is cool. Alexandre gasps. He is everywhere at once. He feels scattered among the wind, but somehow together all the same. Rising higher and higher, he sees the ground fall away. He is flying! He wants to shout in glee, but he has no voice. Higher and higher. He can see the whole island from here. But exhilaration turns to tightness as the air begins to grow thin. It grows harder to breathe as he rises ever higher. The cold starts to bite at him...in him. Higher and higher. It isn’t pleasant any more. He is burning, not from the outside, but from within. There is ice in his veins. Just when he thinks he can’t take it, he starts to fall. Thunder roars around him as he hits the earth over and over and over again. But there is no pain. He closes his eyes as he falls, listening to the gentle sound of his body crashing into the earth. In the next moment, he is still. The sun is warm upon him and he groans in pleasure. Maybe he will just rest here a little while. He gasps when instead he is plunged into cold water. He feels it gliding against him as he is carried through the woods. Flashes of wildlife and trees blur around him as he rushes by in a creek. It slows as he is carried into a cave.

With a gasp, Alexandre comes to himself. He clears his head by shaking it and looks around him to get his bearings. His companions surround him with looks of concern. Father Petrus stands the closest and examines him up and down. 

“The native witchcraft has raised its head again? You were shivering and had an absent stare for a brief moment…”

“Yes,” Alexandre responds, “I had another one of those visions, another key to a ritual I suppose.” 

“What were you this time?” The Father asks. Aphra looks between them with curiosity. Alexandre forgets she was not with them at the lightning tree. It seems now like a lifetime ago. 

“I was in the sky. I was floating, carried by the wind, and it was a cold feeling. I was high up and it was getting colder and colder. I felt my blood freezing in my veins. I fell to the ground and spun slowly...and then the sun warmed me. And suddenly I bounced on the ground and I was taken by the bubbling current of this creek. Then, just like before, the vision dissipated, and I was suddenly with you again.” 

“Last time the vision was a key to the order of these, yes?” Captain Vasco gestures to the stones surrounding the altar. 

“Yes...and I think I know it again.” 

But when Alexandre lit the stones in the order of his vision, nothing happened. No passageway opened. Nothing. The cavern was just as silent as it was before. 

“Maybe you were mistaken in the order?” Aphra suggests. “We could try again.” 

Try as they might, however, they could not extinguish the flames on the stones that had been lit. And the stones that were unlit refused to light. 

“Something could have happened farther in?” Father Petrus proposes. With a furrowed brow, Alexandre agrees. They can’t stay here forever in any case. Might as well explore what they can. 

The path takes them to another chambered pit. But unlike before, the pit is dark, unlit by the lanterns they had seen up to this point. They grapple down into the depths and stumble forward in the dark. Even Siora’s fire seems dim in the dark expanse of the chamber. 

“Shhh!” Siora sticks her arm out to stop them. She turns her head to listen. 

Alexandre hears nothing at first but the faint trickle of water from the cave’s ceiling, but as Siora moves her light around the cavern, he sees it. A huge Nadaig stands in their path. It almost blends into the wall of the cave. Thorny armor lines its body. It stands twice the height of a man with grotesque long arms and bony claws. 

The company begins to draw their swords, preparing for battle. 

“Wait!” hisses Siora. “ I do not think it wishes to fight us.” 

“Siora…” Kurt grits as Siora walks slowly up to the creature. It doesn’t respond to Siora. Instead it appears to ignore her.

“I...I think she is right.” Alexandre says. He also cautiously approaches the creature. He has never been able to get a close look at a living nadaig before. He’d always been too focused on staying alive during previous encounters with them. Before he knows it, he stands beside Siora before the creature. He can hear it inhale and exhale as its stomach rises and falls. 

“Fascinating…” he says to himself. He doesn’t quite know where to look. It doesn’t appear to have eyes. Instead, tentacles are wound in the middle of its face. They pulsate back and forth. As he takes one more step, one of them pulls out to flick at his face. He jerks back at the sudden moment and hears Kurt and Vasco growl behind him, but he holds his hand up, signaling them not to move. He fights his instinct and stands his ground as the tentacle comes closer. It doesn’t touch him, but instead vibrates around his face before retracting inward, as if gathering information from the air.

 _Just like a snake’s tongue,_ Alexandre wonders. He jerks back again as the nadaig’s entire body moves slowly. But instead of attacking, it moves to the side, revealing a passage out of the chamber. It looks down into the passage and then back to them with a deep breath, as if to say, “Here.” 

Siora snorts with amusement. “Many forks, as Glendan said. I think the ritual has appeased her.” 

Alexandre can only nod while still looking up into the nadaig. He wishes he could somehow get it to come with them, to learn more, but he knows that impossible. He is still staring when Aphra clears her throat, coaxing him to follow into the new passage. 

“Um. Thank you…” he says to the creature. 

It tilts its eyeless head down to him and another deep inhale fills its belly with air. Its long responding exhale is almost peaceful. Alexandre offers it a smile as they leave it behind.

“Please, don’t ever do that to me again, she-wolf.” mutters Kurt. 

“Were you worried about me, captain? How sweet.” 

“Humph!”  
_________________________________________________________

The path to the next cavern chamber is short and once again lit with the natural lanterns. They guide them to a bright fresco. Its reds and yellows stand in sharp contrast to the surrounding wall. This has to be it. 

“This must be the seal that Glendan spoke about.” 

He leans forward to inspect it. 

“It looks like the silhouette of the Mountain of Teer Fradee, and a face is drawn within it.”

Indeed, the mountain appeared to move with life, an exhale sending wind down to the island. 

“The spirit of the volcano, one of the faces of en on mil frichtimon,” explains Siora. 

Alexandre nods his head. He still does not quite understand the purpose of this trial. But this fresco symbolizes its completion. Hopefully the journey out of the cavern will not be as strenuous as the journey into it.  
__________________________________________________________

As they return to Dorgred and make their way to the Dorhardgenedu sanctuary, they are greeted warmly by the natives. 

They bow respectfully as they pass. 

They are greeted at the sanctuary by the same warrior they had showed Catasach’s talisman to days earlier. 

“Beurd tir to mad on ol menwai! I congratulate you for passing the trial. Enter!” 

“How do you know I passed it?” Alexandre asks. 

The warrior lets out a deep, rumpling laugh. 

“You would be dead if you hadn’t!” 

Glendan doesn’t seem surprised to see them. 

“And so you have returned. Can you tell me what the seal deep within the cavern brings into your mind?”

_I hope I’m not supposed to read too much into this…_

“A face in the mountain of Teer Fradee…” he responds slowly. 

“Then you have seen the true face of the island when looking into her waters and the island has seen inside you.” Glendan tilts his head thoughtfully before going on. “You sent the beasts into a deep sleep...That was very clever. Another before you did the same.”

They all look at each other with quirked brows. How could he possibly know how they…

“In the second room, you have awoken the Dosantats to better best them…”

Captain Vasco’s mouth is open and he has yet to close it. 

“Finally, you have completed the ritual and in so doing the guardian recognized you as a wiseman.”

_Is he impressed? It’s hard to tell._

“You choose to trust the way of ruse and wisdom. It is a difficult path, but it carries generous fruits. The island has seen your intelligence and also your compassion. The friendship of Catasach towards you no longer surprises me.” 

_Okay, yes, definitely impressed….I think_ Alexandre can feel himself getting excited. Does this mean…?

“Am I authorized to encounter en on mil frichtimen now? To present him with my request?” 

“If the high king agrees, yes. We shall not oppose that decision.”

Alexandre feels his shoulders drop. Another hurdle. 

“Only a high king or high queen is allowed to open the sanctuary. I warned you, your voyage is far from over...” 

Put off, yet determined, he replies, “I suppose that I am going to need to convince them as well. Where can I find him?”

“I do not know. And I believe that there is maybe another trial on your path to find the one you seek.” 

_What do you mean?_

“Is he hiding? Has he been captured?” 

“He disappeared several months ago. Since then we have not heard from him. He was worried about the renaigse. The last people to have seen him I’m told were the most important chiefs of the clans, here at the council. There was Derdre. Bladnid. Ullan and Dunncas.”

At the sound of her mother’s name, Siora winces. 

“My mother, alas, can tell us nothing more…” she mutters. 

For the first time since they’ve known him, emotion shows on Glendan’s face. 

“Yes, I heard about your loss, Siora...Andevaurshd tir se. Mourning is a difficult time to pass.” 

Siora bows in respect. “Andevaursd tir se. Thank you, Glendan.” 

Glendan turns back to Alexandre. 

“Derdre is the mal of the clan of storm warriors, you will find her in the village of Vedleug.”

“Oh, believe me, we’re familiar.” bites Kurt. 

The corner of Glendan’s mouth goes up for a split moment. They’re growing on him. 

“I’ve already met her,” Alexandre explains. “She sent me to confront a guardian.” 

“That sounds like her. Ullan is the mal of the village of Vignamri, near the coast. It is said that he welcomes the renaigse. As for Dunncas,” Aphra perks up at the name, “he leads the Vigyigidaw. He is the chief of the earth healers. His village is not very far from the did e kiden nadaigeis.” 

“Very well, I will go and see them and try to find this High King. Thank you Glendan.” 

“Kwa awelam Seg! I hope that you find him.” 

_Me too_ Alexandre thinks. 

He feels the tension under his skin. He wants nothing more than to go straight to the mals to find this high king, but they were running low on supplies. They would not have enough to make the trip to all three of the villages. They would have to return to New Serene. He only wishes he had more answers for Constantin than questions. 

That night at camp, he decides to ease his tension by reading through the book of fables gifted to him by Constantin. As he pulls out the book and opens it to a random fable a slip of paper falls out. His breath catches as he reaches down to grab the piece of parchment paper. 

_Dear cousin,_

_Sorry...old habits die hard._

_Dear Alex,_

 _I wish I could see the look on your face as you received this book. In case you’ve forgotten, this was the first book you ever got me to read...the only book really. You were so proud. I still read the stories. They calm me in your absence. I hear your words in the pages. I read Catasach the one about the lion and the mouse...I had to change the lion to an ulg, but I think it still made sense. He has also shared so many lovely stories. You will have to ask him to tell you the story of the fox and the stars...I digress. I am sorry Alex. I ask your forgiveness for my selfishness these last few days. But I hope you do understand. I do not wish your last memories of me to be of a weak bed riddled man. I would wish instead that you would remember things like this: hiding under the bed covers while you whispered these stories in the dark._

_Do me a favor. When you read these fables to my future nephews and nieces, think of me fondly. Laugh with them as we did. The thought alone overwhelms me with happiness._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Constantin_

Alexandre reads the note over and over with a mixture of anger and sadness until his eyes grow heavy. He fights sleep, fearing that when he wakes and they return to New Serene that his nightmares will have come true. When sleep finally claims him, it isn’t death he dreams of, but instead he dreams of little ones creating stories for the stars that litter the night sky. A fox lies asleep at their intertwined feet.


	21. Landslide

It isn’t unexpected that the governor’s chair is empty when they return to New Serene. What is surprising is the mob of disgruntled nobles surrounding guardsmen. The city guard sport uncomfortable looks on their faces. 

“Lieutenant, I demand an explanation...tell us what is going on!” Lady Laurine gestures in frustration to the lords and ladies with her. “We haven’t heard anything about Lord d’Orsay’s condition in spite of our inquiries. We are extremely worried.” 

_Odd. Has Constantin started refusing every one. Even Lady Laurine? They are so fond of each other. Regardless, I should probably break this up. Where is Sir de Courcillon?_

Constantin politely weaves himself through the crowd as Lady de Morange gets visibly more worked up. 

“And then all of a sudden, one of his guards appears...shaken,” Lady Laurine points accusatorily to the guard in question and the man stiffens, “and on his own, though he is part of his retinue.”

The lieutenant holds his hands up in a defensive position. “Please, allow me the chance to shed some light, My Lady….”

“Your soldier is nothing more than a coward for abandoning his Highness!” she interrupts and pushes the poor man. Shocked, the lieutenant looks to his men with worried glances as the lords and ladies start to complain all at once. 

_Abandoning?_

“Tell me! What is going on?” 

Lady de Morange and the small mob quiet as they notice de Sardet. The lieutenant gives him and Kurt a relieved look. He resumes an official stance, hands behind his back as he answers the question. 

“This soldier just reported in. He is asking for reinforcements. He believes that Lord d’Orsay has been attacked.”

Shock at the words rush through Alexandre followed by a blast of adrenaline. Before he knows it, he too is in the lieutenant’s face. 

“He believes? He ran here without full knowledge of what happened first hand?” He turns to glare at the guard. _Coward._

The man in question pales under his scrutiny. 

“I...I was sent on patrol far from the camp…” he takes a deep shuddering breath, “But I heard screams. From men and from beasts. I wanted to return to camp, but then heard a deafening sound. Grinding...like a landslide! I thought it would be best to just go and get help.”

_Dear gods…no...breathe. You don’t know anything yet._

Alexandre takes a small breath to calm himself. He turns slightly and makes eye contact with Lady Laurine. He glances behind her to the small gathering hanging on to the guardsman’s every word. She follows his eye movements and her arms relax slightly as it dawns on her the position they could be putting themselves in if they are not careful. She gives him a look of concern before the stern mask slips back in place. 

He turns back to face the guards. “Thank you lieutenant, you are dismissed. I would like to have a discussion with this man alone.”

“Yes, sir!” The lieutenant starts to immediately back away, thankful for a reason to escape the tension in the room. 

As he turns from the guards to the noblemen, Alexandre dons a polite smile. “My Lady?” he lowers his voice to Lady Laurine, “Could you lead these fine people into the hallway, if you would be so kind?” 

On the same page, she replies in kind for his ears alone, “Certainly. I deplore these embarrassing turn of events, but know that you have my full support in all circumstances.” 

The lady walks confidently from the room and the others follow suit without question. 

He waits for the door to close before once again pinning the guard with a stern look. 

“Now...in the interest of avoiding a general panic...Tell me precisely what happened back there.”

The guard looks between him and his companions, looking for any pity. When he finds none , he swallows. 

“Your cousin ordered us to escort him beyond the town limits. The islander convinced him to go on some journey.”

“By islander do you mean the doneigad that came to treat his affliction?” 

“Yes, a strange bird, missing more than one feather, if you ask me, sir.”

At that, Alexandre frowns and crosses his arms, unimpressed. The man stutters again, “I...I was ordered to set up patrol along a small path, rather far from the rest of the company. I was told to protect our perimeter from anyone wandering along. According to the islander, it was the only access to their planned destination. I did my round for quite some time. Not a soul came along, but then I heard cries a way off and I went running to help. I heard an enormous crushing sound like an avalanche of rocks. So then I turned right back around…”

“And you ran all the way here?” Kurt scoffs. “Do you know precisely where the company was when you heard these sounds?”

“No…” the guard answers shamefully, “not precisely. I hadn't gone there. But I could show you where I was posted. The islander said they were following the path, but he was quite a ways ahead when I lost sight of them…”

“Why didn’t you go and look for yourself?” Alexandre cuts in. “To see if they had been buried by a rockslide?”

“What? Alone? What could I have done? It seemed of greater urgency to go and get help.” 

“I’m still having trouble deciding if cowardice or intelligence got the best of you…” Alexandre shakes his head in bewilderment. “But that’s a question for your superiors. My cousin was quite weak. Do you know why he decided to follow the doneigad?” 

“His highness was feeling much better. The potions that he was drinking must have been potent. I mean to show no disrespect to high Highness, but that islander had the high ground in the war of wits. I wasn’t privy to their council. I haven’t the beginning of an explanation for the expedition. But your cousin was full of enthusiasm and ordered that we set out as quick as we could make ready.”

“That sounds like him. What sort of mess has he gotten himself into...Again…”

“I am sorry, sir, but I don’t know anything else I could tell you…” 

Alexandre winces. He didn’t realize he had said that last bit out loud. He squares his shoulders. “Dismissed soldier!” 

The man’s shoulders drop in relief and he all but runs out of the meeting hall. 

“Looks like I’m going on an expedition…” Alexandre looks at his companions with a wry smile. Worry is etched on their faces.

“Why would Catasach risk the governor’s health on such an expedition?” Aphra asks. 

“I don’t know. Maybe the potions were working as he said…” Alexandre frowns

“But if that were the case, why leave at all?”

Alexandre glares at the empty chair in response. 

“I guess if we are lucky, we will find out.”   
____________________________________________________________  
Earlier  
____________________________________________________________

Constantin shakes as a nurse pulls a new blanket over him. He is freezing, despite the beads of sweat on his face. They’ve had to constantly change his bed sheets, as he sweats through them. As she tucks the blanket around his legs a strong tremor racks him. The girl’s bottom lip trembles. He offers her a small smile. 

“Some water, my dear? If you would be so kind?” 

The girl nods eagerly and rushes from the room on her quest. 

With her absence, he is left alone in the room with Catasach and takes a moment to close his eyes. He focuses on the soft clinking of glassware as the man prepares his ever growing cocktail of tinctures. 

“Catasach?” he asks softly. 

The clinking pauses as the doneigad turns to him. 

“Yes, my friend?” 

“I…wanted to thank you. For your willingness to come here. It must not be easy to be stuck here with me....like this…”

Catasach stares at him quizzically and puts down his work. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed at Constantin’s feet. 

He stayed there a moment, thinking before saying, “Before de Sardet came to me, I had never met a renaigse that was not seeking his own. The mind shakers wish to make us into trophies. The lions claim us as savages, yet they scorch the earth. They take and they take and they take. And they do not look to see the pain they cause….” Catasach shakes his head and then turns to look at Constantin with a small smile. He takes his hand and puts it over his calf, giving it a squeeze. 

“De Sardet and you...you are the first renaigse I have met to have eyes. You do not see things as they are...but what they could be. And even now, I am not so sure what you see is possible…But I would try to believe it to be. That we can all work together one day.”

Constantine’s throat feels tight. He nods mutely to the older man. 

“I...uh, I also wanted to thank you for your encouragement. I would have many regrets without your advice...not that I don’t still have some of my own making...but I can find rest that I wouldn't have had otherwise.”

“You speak as if you are finished?”

Constantine sighs and then stares at him seriously. “I know this may be against a code of sorts, my friend, but I think I shall have no more need for your services...you don’t have to leave, of course! I wouldn’t be opposed to our regular game of cards. We could have a table brought in. I don’t believe I’ve taught you the game of…”

“Why?”

The young man lets out a wry laugh before dropping back into his serious expression. He stares down to where the older man grips his leg, focusing on it, drawing strength from it. Still, he whispers, 

“This may be too forward of me, my friend, but if your wife was in such pain, would you want her to live in it forever? Or would you want her to move on to the next adventure?”

The older man’s grip tightens as he turns to stare at the tray of potions sitting on the table across from the bed. Constantin can see the thoughts whirling in his mind as he processes their conversation. When he turns back, he relaxes his grip on Constantin’s leg, patting it in resolution.

“There is a plant that grows under the Willow trees along the river’s edge. When you crush the roots, they release a powder. In days past, when it was said that the clans were at war with another, warriors would drink it as a last stand. It would give them amazing strength, for a time. But it was only taken in small doses and if necessary. It took some as slaves, they went mad with it and then madder without it.”

“And...you want me to drink it?”

“I want to try something…”

“...ok?” 

Catasach darts up from the bed. 

“Are you going to explain this something or…”

“I must go see Courcillon. He will help you pack all that you need. I will go to fetch the plant.”

“Pack?! Catasach, what on earth are we doing?”

The older man opens the door right as the girl returns with a glass of water. It is filled with ice and she has even added lemon and mint. Catasach smiles at her as she passes and then even more widely at him as she lays the glass on the nightstand.

“We are going on your grand adventure of course.”


	22. The Last Hand

_"Worm…"_

Constantin slowly opens his eyes to a squint. He must have dozed off. But why is it so damn bright? Surely it is evening?

_“Worm!”_

A voice shouts at him. A single word filled with venom. Constantin eyes spring open the rest of the way and he sits up. 

_What the fuck?!_

He is no longer in his bed. He appears to be in a field, but looking around, there is nothing. Plains for miles. How did he get here? Where is here? 

The sun is so bright...but wait, there is no sun? Looking up, he only sees white expanse. A void.

 _A dream?_ Constantin thinks. 

His head is pounding still. With a groan he presses his palms to his eyes, but now that he is conscious, the pure light above still seeps through. 

What had he been doing before this? If he can remember, maybe he can wake up....Surely he had been in bed? No, no, he had been walking. He can recall the wind in his hair, the solidness of ground under his feet, and the smell of...fur? He gasps at the flashed memory of a humongous creature of the likes he had never seen. It almost had the appearance of a island warrior...if an islander had fur and long horns. Its eyes had stared into him with determination. 

Why? What did it mean?

_“WORM!”_

This time the voice has his full attention. If this is a dream, he feels wide awake. He feels the adrenaline hit him. Constantin gets up quickly and is instantly rewarded with a stabbing sensation through his head. He winces, but grits his teeth. Apparently he has something bigger than a headache to deal with. He looks around him. Nothing. 

“Who are you?” Constantin yells in a random direction. “What do you want?”

_”You take what is not yours.”_

“Ahhh!” Constantin cries as a stab of pain brings his attention to his palm. It’s bleeding. 

Cradling it, he looks around for the voice. 

“What do you mean? What did I take?!

_“I am coming for you. Thief! Murderer! Worm!”_

The ground starts to shake and rocks surround him, closing in, making it harder to breathe. 

“Shit!” He panics and tries to break away, but something has grabbed his leg.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!!! I DIDN’T TAKE ANYTHING!!”

_Wake up Constantin! Damn it, wake up, wake up, wake up!_

_“I am coming for you.”_

_WAKE UP!!!_

“Wake up! Renaigse! You must get up!”

_"Coming for you!!"_

“Constantin! Please!”

_"Rip it out. Rip it out. Rip it out!"_

“You there! Run to de Sardet tell him that…ugh!”

Constantin’s eyes flicker open and he groans at the pain of living, everything is much too bright and loud. He notes, however, that the pain is different than he has grown accustomed to. It's sharper, more at the surface than deep. When he can finally focus he sees his old friend.

Catasach’s eyes stare into his, but something is off. He is still. Unblinking. 

A metallic smell fills the air. 

_No…_

It’s all he can manage to think before darkness claims him once more.


	23. A Long Day's Night

“What do you think? Alexandre asks Kurt as they examine the dead body of one of Constantin’s guards.

“It wasn’t a landslide that did this, but combat. A deadly one.” Kurt says grimly. “I do hope our little governor has escaped the carnage.” 

“Search the zone,” he says to the rest. “Let’s see if we can find any clues as to what's happened here.” 

It doesn’t make him feel any better to find claw marks cleaving the tents and traces of blood.

“They were attacked in their sleep.” Father Petrus says in disgust. 

“By beasts?” asks Vasco. 

“It appears so.” replies Siora. She joins Kurt to crouch over the body, examining the huge gash through the man’s abdomen. “They were attacked by surprise and there were animals among them. Wild beasts would not leave a body so.” 

“Our men reacted properly,” says Kurt, “they were armed and they fled as best they could.”

“There are no bodies and no sign of Constantin or Catasach’s presence here…” Alexander voices with a mixture of hope and concern. “Perhaps they were in another place and the soldiers wanted to join them.” He turns to Siora. “We need to follow the tracks.” She nods, leading the way deeper into the ancient battlegrounds of Magasvar. 

Siora is an expert tracker, but as it turns out, unneeded. 

“This area has been trampled.” Alexandre says in wonder, examining the area. “An entire stampede passed by here.” He looks around and points to an overhang. It’s easy enough to climb in a hurry, but too tall for hooved beasts to follow. “There. Our soldiers must have fled the zone and taken this path followed by their assailants.” 

They climb to find some ruins. Stacks of stones decorate a field leading up to a huge door within the cliff face. 

“This is a sacred place of a native cult. No doubt this is where Catasach and Constantin were going.” 

Bodies of men and beasts litter the field.

“De Sardet!” Aphra calls him. She is kneeling in the middle of the field, holding something in her hand. When he gets close enough, she holds it out to him. 

“You recognize it?” 

Alexandre takes it from her hands and nods. 

“This blade is a native ritual knife.” He turns his attention to the bowl next to her. “And this bowl contained a potion. Someone wanted to perform a ritual here. Could Catasach have found a better means to alleviate some of Constantin’s symptoms?”

Captain Vasco and Kurt draw near. “No signs of Constantin or Catasach among the dead.” Alexandre releases a shaky breath. 

“Your men fought hard,” Vasco notes. “Craters line the field. Looks like explosive potions. Dangerous to use in short range.”

“They were desperate…”

“Here!” calls Siora. “There are tracks. Survivors. They escape down this path.” 

The trail leads them up the mountain. Trees grow scarce as they climb. 

They smell the smoke before they see its source.

“Strange...These trees look half calcinated, as if they were exposed to some intense heat.” 

“More bodies,” sighs Kurt. “Green blood, look at the state of their weapons.”

“Whatever did these men come up against?” wonders Alexandre

_Please, Constantin. Please be ok._

His muscles tighten as they continue. The path gets more grim and bodies more unrecognizable with the increased charring of flesh. If a body isn’t burned, it is ripped. Torn to shreds by animals or something far deadlier. He forces himself to look at them, trying not to feel ashamed at the sense of relief when each one isn’t Constantin. 

“So many signs of an explosion. Are our soldiers authorized to carry so many potions?” he directs at Kurt. 

“Not that I know of…” the man grimly replies. 

“Strange?” comments Siora. 

“What is it?” 

“A new set of tracks. Here. It is as if another group joined them.” 

Indeed, more footprints come down to add to the ones in the clearing. Upon closer inspection, some of the bodies do not wear the dress of their guards. 

“These are Coin Guard,” remarks Kurt. “But I couldn’t tell you if they serve the Bridge Alliance or Theleme.”

Siora walks the perimeter of the clearing, her eyes fixed to the ground. 

“Only a handful make it out,” she concludes. 

Further along, the path ends. The small cluster of footprints and trail of bodies guide them to a strange sight of wrecked rocks. 

“It’s as if they had taken canon fire…” Alexandre wonders. “What could have happened here?” 

He walks closer to examine one and gets distracted at the crushing of glass under his boot.

“These vials look familiar. Catasach used the very same to stock his potions. He MUST have come here.” 

And wherever Catasach was, surely Constantin was with him. 

“Green Blood!”

His blood runs cold at the tone of Kurt’s voice and he blindly runs to the man. 

“It’s not him.” Kurt says instantly at the look on his face. “It’s an escort. But I found this on him.” 

“I recognize this sack...It’s my cousin’s...Oh, Constantin, what have you gotten yourself into again?”

_It always has to be you._

“Another clue, my son.” Father Petrus says as he hands him a letter. “This was found on the body of one of the stranger’s.”

“According to this note, this troop came from an outpost of the Bridge Alliance close by. A patrol no doubt. Could the Bridge somehow be linked to that attack?”

“No,” Aphra replies, “that makes no sense. No colonist understands how to control fauna of this island, whereas for the...native wisemen…”

“You believe Catasach could have orchestrated this attack?” 

Siora grits her teeth and starts to charge forward. “You speak of sense? Why would…” Kurt grabs her by the arm and shakes his head. Aphra finishes her thought, unimpeded by the outburst. 

“Who else? You know all too well that with your cousin as hostage, you would be obliged to cede to the demands of the natives.” 

He lets the idea play out. Could it be true? If so, he’ll kill him. 

“He would then have only accepted to treat him in order to gain his trust? I don’t know…”

“On ol menawi! You cannot possibly think this true?” cries Siora. She looks hurt. 

He looks between the two women. He doesn’t have time for this. 

“Regardless of who is guilty, I must find my cousin. We could return to Wenshaveyeh to learn more. Perhaps Catasach returned there, or maybe his voglendaig could tell us where to find him. We are also going to have to visit the outpost. There soldiers were involved in the combat...or at least the end of it. They must have some stories for us.” 

Kurt crosses his arms in thought. “I doubt that the Alliance would have decided to openly attack their ally.” 

Another pained look flashes on Siora’s face, this time directed at Kurt. 

“Don’t forget that they owe their continued presence on the island to you.”

“And thanks to you, I know,” Alexandre confirms. “But their men were there on the cliff. And Constantin is no longer among us. Maybe those men are still loyal to the preceding Commander. However...one way or another, Constantin is in danger. We must go. No further delays.”  
_______________________________________________________

They run. 

Alexandre is thankful for months of fighting beasts and braving the wilderness as they run through the night. They don’t stop until they reach the Alliance outpost. As Alexandre slows to a gentle jog up to the gate, he can hear Father Petrus wheeze behind him. He looks at him apologetically. He had blacked out, if he is honest, focusing on nothing but the path ahead of him. 

A man in Alliance uniform meets them at the wooden gate. 

“Colonials? You must have gotten lost to have come this far, this late from nowhere...To whom do I owe the honor?” 

“De Sardet” Alexandre manages without gasping. “I am the Legate of the Congregation of Merchants on this island.”

The man looks surprised. 

“A legate? Here? Pardon my dismay, but we don’t get many official sorts around here.” The man gestures to himself. “Captain Idris. I am the ranking officer in charge of this Bridge Alliance outpost. What can I do for you, sir?” 

“I am looking for Constantin d’Orsay. The Island Governor of the Congregation of Merchants.”

Bewildered, Captain Idris replies, “A Governor here? What would he be doing in this rat hole?”

“My cousin was part of an expedition in this region. His men and his camp were attacked, they nearly all died. But we found no trace of his body, which has us hoping that he may still be alive. Wounded and holding up somewhere,” he manages to not wince at his own words, “or even...captured.”

“Have you cast your suspicions in our direction? I hope this is a joke!” He shakes his head in disbelief. “We’ve had neither reinforcements nor supplies for weeks. In my book, we’ve been totally forgotten. I wouldn’t risk the few lives remaining to attack a governor’s camp! I’m not crazy!” The man inhales deeply, visibly controlling himself. “I’m truly sorry for your cousin, Excellency, but we haven’t seen him, and we definitely haven’t kidnapped him. The region is dangerous, the natives are heartless, you should be looking in their direction.”

 _That doesn’t add up_ Alexandre thinks. 

“You do know that we found the bodies of several men from the garrison up there, don’t you?”

“How could you be sure?”

“One of them was carrying a note, signed by your hand.”  
Captain Idris lets out a tired, defeated sort of sigh. “Then they are dead. I had hoped they’d have survived and would eventually return.”

“Explain yourself, Captain! What were your men doing on the cliff top?”

“They were monitoring the zone. They were to warn us of any troop movements. We have lost too many men to surprise attacks, we decided to take initiative and be ready. Yesterday, we heard screams and saw some strange lights up there. But I was hoping...” 

Alexandre scoffs. “And you didn’t go and see for yourself? You hear screams, certainly those of your own men, and you don’t do anything?” 

The older man snarls. 

“So the last of my men give up their lives for nothing as well? You can think of me as a coward if you like, but me, I’m taking no more unnecessary risks.”

Alexandre can feel his face heat with anger. He needs answers and he needs them now. 

“Why do I have the feeling that you are holding something back from me?”

“Captain,” Aphra steps in, voice gentle. “My name is Aphra. You may remember me. I passed by this outpost with my fellow scholars.”

“The lost expedition...Yes, I remember…”

She nods encouragingly with a smile, “His Excellency was able to...extract us from the situation we found ourselves in.”

Recognition dawns on his face. Captain Idris looks back and forth between them. Word must get around. He appears to struggle with this revelation to his moral compass. 

“His Excellency has powers that I do not possess.” 

“I am casting no stones at you,” Aphra reassures. “You are isolated and without resources. And understandably a bit angry. You have the feeling that the powerful of this world have abandoned you. And you want to make them pay. But a life hangs in the balance. We must save him.”

“Ahh,” the man groans, crumbling. “You are right. I will tell you everything I know.” He sighs again, gathering himself. “One of the men I had posted there returned during the night.”

Alexandre perks up. 

“A survivor? Excellent! Did he tell you what happened?”

“He wasn’t able to say a word. He collapsed unconscious two steps past the doorway. Our nurse sits with him, but…” Captain Idris' voice catches. “There is little hope that he will come back to himself. His wounds are extremely serious...He’s just refusing to die.”

“I am sorry to hear that, Captain. Perhaps we could do something for him?”

The man looks between Alexandre and Aphra and nods.

“Go and see the nurse. Perhaps you can do something to help the poor boy.” And then the man breaks. A sob wracked his body. 

“I can’t take it anymore...to lose another man.” 

A stab of shame pierces him for raising his voice to the captain. He was doing his best with what he had to keep his men alive. 

The captain collects himself quickly with a sniff and quick wipe of his nose. He stands tall again. The only evidence of his outburst is the shaking in the fists he keeps tight to his sides. 

“We will see what we can do.” Alexandre says softly. The captain’s lips thin and he stares forward until they pass by him to enter the outpost. 

The man in the infirmary is far too young for the injuries he has sustained. Third degree burns run the length of his left side. His breathing is labored and very slow. 

“Can you help him?” he says quietly to Aphra. The woman looks down at the young boy with pity. 

“I can try, but the burns run deep and far.” 

“Try.” Alexandre pleads. 

Aphra looks at him. The pity remains. 

“We will find him, Alexandre.”  
_____________________________________________________

The night stretched on. Kurt tried to get him to sleep, but he refused. Aphra had to remain awake to apply the potion with the nurse. So he would remain awake as well. 

Even after the women had done all that they could, he watched the boy through the night, reassuring himself with every movement of his chest, evidence that he was still breathing. 

When the sun rose, he felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder.

The nurse hands him a coffee and he takes it with gratitude. 

“When will we know if he is going to make it.” 

“The potion is potent, but it will take time. Tomorrow.”

_A whole day…_

Alexandre nods his head and drinks his coffee quietly. The rest of his companions sleep in various stages of discomfort around him. 

_Let them rest. They need it._

By the time all of them wake up, they find Alexandre fast asleep in his chair, empty mug still in hand. Siora gently removes the mug as Kurt handles his shoes and then gently shifts him into a position that won’t kill his neck. Father Petrus covers the young man with his cape. Captain Vasco and Aphra watch on in amusement. And then they all go back to the positions in which they had awoken and allow sleep to take them again.  
_______________________________________________

Alexandre wakes with a start. Observing his surroundings, the previous day’s events come back to him quickly. He looks at the cot in the corner and gasps when he sees the young man’s eyes are open. 

He stumbles, tripping over the cape covering him in his haste to get to the boy. 

“How are you doing, soldier?” he asks. 

“Better, a lot better,” the man responds. He looks at the nurse and she nods. “Are you the one who saved me? The nurse told me.” 

“It was Aphra that prepared and applied the potion. Could you tell me what happened during the attack?”

The boy shudders. “I will try...They’re not really memories I’m fond to bring back. A lot of my friends died up there. We were posted up on the peak to follow rebel movement, it had been a couple of days. When we heard sounds of fighting not far from our position....Men were screaming, in our language, so we went to see what was happening. Soldiers of the Coin Guard and an Islander were trying to protect a young man, he seemed dire ill.” 

_Constantin…why were you out there?_

“Constantin, Catasach, and his escort,” he confirms. “Who were they fighting against?” 

“Dozens of wild animals that seemed completely enraged and intent on devouring them...And there were flames…”

“Flames? Where were they coming from?”

“I…” the man lets out a frustrated grunt, “I don’t know. My friends and other soldiers fell one after the other. I didn’t see everything, all was blood and confusion, with beasts and fire...But I thought I saw another Islander...Big...He is the one who took the sickened man. There was practically no one left on the battlefield. I was wounded and I passed out. I came to when I heard voices of islanders approaching, rebels...I thought to myself, they were coming to finish off the wounded...I got up with difficulty and fled. I dragged myself here...and you know the rest…” 

_They took him_

“I’m going to have to find these rebels.”

____________________________________________

“De Sardet!”

“....”

“De Sardet! Please, don’t!...Kurt, please, stop him!”

He collides with Kurt as the older man shoves him backwards. Before Alexandre can think, Kurt has him turned onto his stomach with his arms in a vice grip behind him. 

“Easy there, Green blood…” 

Alexandre spits out a mouthful of dirt. “What are you doing?!” 

“She-wolf’s right, my friend. Don’t go doing something you will regret.”

The younger man lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Regret? Regret! They made a fucking promise to keep peace and then broke it. They have Constantin! They are the ones that are going to feel regret!” He struggles in Kurt’s grib to no avail. “Let me go, Kurt!” 

The captain does no such thing and looks at the company with pleading eyes.

Siora gets to her knees slowly, as if approaching a wild animal. She speaks softly to him. “We do not know if they have your cousin, Alex…”

De Sardet glares out into space, unresponsive. Siora takes the silence as a chance to keep going. 

“We WILL find him, my friend. But you cannot lose your head. All that I ask is that you talk to them first.”

She flinches when his eyes snap onto hers with predator-like intent. Alexandre is fuming with anger and fear. He doesn’t even think before he says it. He wants her to hurt. 

“Because your people have been so good at talking…”

Shocked pain flashes in Siora’s eyes and some cruel part of him cheers. 

The feeling of victory is fleeting. Then comes the rush of regret and shame. They flood his chest and make it hard to breath. Well, that, and the feeling of Kurt’s knee pushing him harder into the ground. He winces as his arms are pulled even harder behind him. 

“That was beneath you,” Aphra chides him. 

The company is still for a fragile moment. 

The feeling of the earth beneath him and Kurt’s body holding him in a pained grip help Alexandre to focus on breathing. He focuses on the smell of the dirt, the pinpoint prick of a kneecap on his back, the shame in his gut, the cooling wind on his face. The anger and fear are still there, thrumming under the surface, but he feels control return. His body goes lax beneath Kurt in a sigh. 

“I know…I’m sorry, Siora. I didn’t mean it, truly.” 

Siora nods sadly. The shame stabs him as she doesn’t make eye contact, but stares at the ground, her arms tightened into fists on her knees. 

“You back with us, fledgling?” Kurt mutters. 

“Yes...yes, I’m good now. I’m sorry, all of you.” 

The captain finally releases his hold and moves off the younger man. Alexandre moves to his knees to stand up when Siora grabs his arm. He stills and they lock eyes. His are filled with apology. Hers are filled with fiery determination. He thinks she may hit him.

He’d certainly deserve it…

But the hit doesn’t come. 

“I promise you, De Sardet. If the doneia egsregaw have done anything to harm your cousin, I will kill them all myself.” 

Alexandre stares at her in awe, emotion fills his throat and he struggles to thank her. She gives him a slight nod of understanding. 

Kurt is the first to break the silence. 

“Well fuck, Green blood, don’t promise her all the glory if shit hits the ceiling. Save some of the fighting for us.”

Siora lets out a bright, soul-lifting laugh. Alexandre gives the older man an amusing smile. It deepens when Aphra slaps Kurt over the head. 

“Oh, for pity sake, do you always have to...can’t you see they were having a moment!” Aphra throws her hands towards them in frustration. 

Father Petrus shakes his head in bewilderment, “Children…”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Vasco agrees.

Kurt sputters at the sea captain. 

“You’re 25!”  
_______________________________________________

He supposes he should take it as a good sign that the ruin guards do not attack them on site, but instead give them a respectful nod as they enter the camp to speak with their chief. 

Chief Daren’s greeting is more restrained. 

“Renaigse...What do you want?”

“To speak to you about my cousin’s capture and massacre of his escort.” The word massacre comes out through gritted teeth. “A soldier from the nearby outpost survived and told us that you were present on the battlefield.” 

Daren’s eyebrow lifts and she gives him a challenging, spiteful smile as his voice raises. It makes him want to grab her by the collar and shake the answers out of her. Alexandre takes a breath and counts to ten. Siora is right, violence will get them nowhere. He racks his brain for the right words. 

“I know that you see us as your enemies, but we are not here to harm you. I only seek to find the man that I consider...I consider to be my brother. As well as the man who was protecting him, Catasach, one of your greatest doneigad.” 

At the mention of the old healer’s name, Daren’s eyes widen. They shift over to a guard. She knows something. 

“No doneia egsregaw would attack Catasach.” 

“If you didn’t attack him, you must know what happened to them! I was told that an islander took my cousin away. Perhaps your men were there to aid them?”

“We do not have your cousin and we do not know what happened to him. As for Catasach…” Daren’s voice breaks, “...Andevaurshd tir e! He died from his wounds.”

_No…_

“That night,” Daren explains, “we heard the sounds of a terrible combat: the ground shook all the way to our homes. We went to see...But we arrived too late.”

The occupants of the tent shift uncomfortably as she recounts the story. One native woman in the abode’s corner sniffs and wipes her eyes. 

“The last breath of Catasach had returned to the wind when we arrived there. And many of the renaigse were dead. We could do no more. We carried the body of the doneigad and brought it here.”

At that moment they were no longer enemies. Nor were they friends. But they were tied nonetheless, as only the living can be, to a common death. 

“He gave his life to protect Constantin...May he rest in peace…”

Chief Daren gives a solemn bow to her head. 

“This request might surprise you, but we would like to see him.”

And just like that every native body in the room stiffens. Alexandre winces internally at himself. 

_Right...years of experimentation by the Bridge Alliance...read the room, Alex._

A rather large native with a bludgeon made of bone steps up to him. 

“Why? What do you want to do with him, renaigse?”

He sees Captain Vasco and Kurt move their hands slowly to their swords out of the corner of his eyes as the man gets in his face. Alexandre holds up his hands in a show of goodwill. “Examine him to understand what killed him. We were told that an island Native was there and that he most likely led the attack.” 

“Tsk,” Daren clicks, “no doneia egsregaw would attack Catasach. You have been lied to or they were mistaken. 

“That is the very reason I need to see his body...To understand.”

Chief Daren gives him a contemplative look. She stares him down for what feels like ages before relenting, “You may see him, but if you desecrate his body, you will pay for this offense with your life.”  
________________________________________________

“Bloody hell..” Kurt gasps as chief Daren removes the sheet covering Catasach. 

The healer is almost unrecognizable.

And his torso…

Alexandre can hardly make himself look at the man. 

Deep gashes and bruises cover the man. But even more disturbing is the wound in his chest. His sternum and ribs have been crushed inward by some great force. If that hadn’t killed him, the shattering of his ribs into his heart and lungs would have done the rest. Rigor mortis has set into his hands. They are held in front of him in an attempt to stop whatever was coming at him. His face is frozen in a look of horror. 

_What could have possibly done this?_

Alexandre must have been transfixed on the man’s eyes because he didn’t even notice Siora until she gently closed them. He gives her a thankful smile before returning his gaze to the larger wound. 

“Seeing the state of his body, I hate myself for having suspected him." Aphra tenses behind him. "Forgive me, doneigad to have doubted your loyalty, and even more for what we are about to do.” He steels himself with resolve. _He is no longer in pain. You can do this._ “Now, let’s see what story this corpse has to tell.”

The innermost section of the wound is unhelpful. The organs and bone mix in an indistinguishable mass. But as he moves outward, he notes a difference in the appearance of the tissue. 

“The edges of the wound are singed, and smell of burnt flesh,” he says mechanically. He leans closer and gently swipes his finger. He hears Vasco gag behind him. “There is a powdery spot on this wound. As if from ash or dusty gravel. Catasach bore the brunt of this attack or incredible force...I would venture to say it was inhuman. I can only imagine one thing that could have inflicted such a wound. It’s as if an enormous burning stone hit him right in the center of the chest. And seeing as how the bodies of the soldiers we found were sporting wounds of a similar nature. We can deduce that we are on the tracks of a man...or a creature capable of using molten rock as a weapon.”

It sounds crazy as he says it. 

“We still don’t really know who is actually behind this attack...nor what they want. Judging by the severity of these wounds...I fear the worst for Constantin.”

“All your experiments…” Daren says bitterly, “You’ve learned so little. You’ve learned to fear...Your instincts should have been enough!”

“We had to at least try. Are you not even concerned or angered by what happened to Catasach?” 

“We’ve grown accustomed to the loss of lives, your relentless attacks and incessant treacheries!” Daren bares her teeth in warning, but then seems to think better of it and sighs. “All the same, there is truth in your words. This attack is out of place. Guardian and doneigad would never attack one another.” 

She stares at Catasach’s body with a frown, deep in thought. 

There is a ritual that might help us...anatelas fer…”


	24. Guardian

Constantin moans as he comes to. He cradles his head as he sits up. His head feels foggy. 

_What happened?_

Looking around, he is in the middle of a giant cavern. His vision is blurred and he scrunches his eyes to no avail. 

_Was I kidnapped? Drugged? Think Constantin, think..._

The malichor. He reaches up to touch his face and feels the scarred tissue there. But there is no pain. 

_Why? The plan must have worked?_

_What plan?_

_Catasach’s plan._

_Catasach…_

“Dead...because of you…” 

Constantin gasps and scrambles to his feet as a deep voice rumbles around him.

_Catasach? Dead? No, no...I’m dreaming again. I’ll wake up._

“Partly right, renaigse…” the voice rumbles again. 

“Where are you?!” Catasach yells. 

“Here…”

A cracking noise draws his attention to the center of the cavern. A massive tree, larger than any he has seen, lets off an eerie glow. Constantin stoops down to pick up a stone as he searches the tree's limbs for the stranger. When the tree twists and roots start to grow out towards him, he falls backwards with a surprised yelp. But instead of hitting the ground, he is caught with surprising gentleness. Looking behind him, he suppresses another yell as he sees a beast with horns twice the size of a man supporting him. It stares down at him with glowing yellow eyes. 

“Kill him…” 

_It’s the tree! It’s a bloody talking tree! Wait...kill me?_

Constantin whips his head to the tree and back again, towards the creature behind him. It is no longer looking at him, but instead is looking at the tree. It’s head is tilted in confusion. 

“Kill him!” 

Still, the beast does not move. 

Constantin feels a surge of frustration along with sadness, but weirdly, the feelings are not his own. 

_Can’t kill him...he is ours...we are one._

“Why?” Constantin pleads. “Why do you want to kill me? Who are you?”

“I? I am En on mil frichtimen. Why?...You are a parasite.”

“I beg your pardon?”

_Just keep talking, Constantin. Think, think, think…_

“KILL HIM!”

_No...no I won’t. I chose him._

“Arghhh, he poisons you already. He is sickness. He is death!” 

The beast lets out a low growl.

“He has turned you against me…”

Constantin doesn’t have the slightest clue as to what is going on. He chooses his words carefully. “You’re right, I was sick. A lot of us are...It’s why we were looking for you. We had hoped that you could cure…”

“There is no cure for your kind.”

The tree seems to grow in size and the ground starts to shake again. The beast behind him steadies him before moving in front of him, shielding him from the tree. It pulls a wooden sword out of its back. The shaking starts to take on a pattern...footsteps. Constantin’s eyes widen as he sees a shadow in the darkness. His body gets a shot of adrenaline as it comes into the tree’s light. Another beast, three times larger than the one before him prowls around the tree. Its forelimbs bend at an unnatural angle and its tail weaves gracefully back and forth. It eyes them like a housecat eyes a mouse. 

“Better to root it out before it grows…”

The horrible creature lurches forward at En on mil frichtimen’s words, racing towards them with frightening speed.

Constantin feels his world turn upside down as his protector grabs him, throws him over its back, and runs. 

“NO!” yells En on mil frichtimen. 

The monstrous creature chases them. Constantin has a terrifying view of the beast as it sprints far too close on their tail. It gives out a terrifying roar and electricity starts to crackle in its mouth.

“Shit!” Constantin yells. He starts to pound the back of the beast carrying him. “Duck! Duck, duck, DUCK!” 

They hit the ground just in time for a beam of light to pass above them. Constantin can feel the heat of it on his face. 

Thankfully, in order to shoot the beam, the creature had to stop. It shakes its head, temporarily blinded by its own attack, and his own monster takes advantage of the moment. It takes no time to reshuffle him on its back and takes off again. They wind down pathways of stone as the beast chases them. It slams into the walls of the cave and causes rock to shake down from the ceiling. It is far faster than them, but has difficulty turning its body in the ever growing tighter passageways. The paths grow smaller and smaller until finally the beast gets stuck. It lets out a roar of frustration and pelts out a series of electric blasts. The light and noise dim as they continue to sprint forward. 

After what feels like an eternity of running, the creature carrying him slows. It breathes heavily as it gently drops him to the cave floor. It then sits in front of him, catching its breath. 

“I...thank you.” Constantin pants, he moves to stand, but his legs are too shaky to support him and he falls to the ground again. He closes his eyes, suddenly very tired. 

_Worm!_

En on mil frichtimen! Constantin whips his head to look around them, but the tree nor its protector are anywhere in sight. 

_You cannot run from ME, worm. You are a parasite, latched on to me. I will go where you go. I will MAKE you pay!! I will take, before you do._

“I can hear him...oh gods, I can hear him! He’s in my head. He’s going to drive me mad!”

The beast grabs his face between two monstrous hands. They are covered in fur and surprisingly soft. 

_Cannot hurt. Safe._

It’s voice is warm. It reminds Constantin of a warm autumn day. The creature’s yellow eyes on closer appearance are an amber color. Like the changing colors of leaves. 

“But...he’s inside my head.”

_We are all inside...body safe._

“What do you mean, am I dreaming?”

The beast nods his head and a sense of relief fills him. 

“So...I’m not really here?”

The beast nods again. 

“Thank the enlightened one. So this nightmare isn’t real.”

_Yes...real._

Constantin raises his eyebrows, confused. 

“But you just said…you know what, nevermind.”

He is suddenly tired. So very tired. But he fears what will happen to him if he were to fall asleep. If En on mil frichtimen can get inside of his mind, could he also control his body?

_Sleep. You control. Safe._

The creature gently pushes him to lie down. It stands and moves to guard the young man as he sleeps. 

It takes everything he has to fight the weight of his eyelids. 

“Why? Why did you save me?”

The creature looks back at him puzzled, as if it were the oddest question in the world. 

_Because they saved him too…_


End file.
